Skip to main content

Full text of "Wellesley magazine"

See other formats

t-i 'yu.L-as W< 





Pbogbess of University Extension .n Amebica . Myrtilla Avery 

To My Mother M. G. M.,'92 

The Gospel of Repose Taught by Matthew Arnold . J. K.] >9l 

Out on the Cliffs at Twilight £, #_ 

THB iMEBICAH Woman DBAWS BY Howkm.s, James and Warner, 

Alice Welch Kellogy 

Old-Fashionkd Etosiw 
Compensation . 
"A Chiel's Amam. > 01 
Kixtoriai, . 
The Free Prj:sk 
Book Revif.w- 
College Notes 
Society Notes 
Ai.umn/e Notes 
College Bulletin 
Marriages, Death* 

Takin' Not* 
■ / 

. Li 

Man B. Quinby 

Welch Kellogy 

Mary K. Txhnm 










entered in the Post-office at Wellestey, Mass., as second-class rasrttra 


tmi *mcox *nr*o co 


Life and Work of John Buskin. 

By W. G. Collingwood, for years Mr. Ruskin's pri- 
vate secretary. It contains letters by Mr. Ruskin, 
Carlyle and Browning and describes Ruskin's re- 
markable character and the admirable contributions 
made by him to the literature of art and ethics. The 
work has several portraits and other illustrations. 2 
vols., 8vo, #6.00. 

Sam Houston and the War of Inde- 
pendence in Texas. 

By Alfred M. Williams. With a Portrait and 
Map. 8vo, #2.00. A valuable and interesting book, 
both as a history of Texas and a biography of Hous- 
ton, who had a very remarkable career. 

Essays in Idleness. 

By Agnes Repplier, author of " Books and Men," 
" Points of View." etc. i6mo, gilt top, #1.25. These 
brilliant essays will challenge, instruct, amuse, and de- 
light the reader. 

A Japanese Interior. 

By Alice M. Bacon, author of "Japanese Girls and 
Women." i6mo, $1.25. A book of great value and 
interest, describing Japanese home and school life, 
theatres, traveling, hotels, food, temples, dress, dolls' 
festivals, fireworks, the climate, earthquakes, etc. 

The Son of a Prophet. 

By George Anson Jackson. i6mo, #1.25. An his- 
torical story of great interest, giving a view of times 
and persons possessing a kind of sacred fascination. 
The scene is in Palestine and Egypt in the reign of 
King Solomon. 

Two Bites at a Cherry, with other 

By Thomas Bailey Aldkich. i6mo, $1.25. A 
book of exquisite short stories, novel in plan, written 
in the most delightful style, by the author of " Ma- 
jorie Daw." 

A Native of Winby, and other Tales. 

By Sarah Orne Jewett, author of " Deephaven," 
"A White Heron," etc. i6mo,jSi.2S. Seven charming 
New England stories in which Miss Jewett is unsur- 
passed, and two Irish-American stories equally perfect 
in style and spirit. 

Bachel Stanwood. 

By Lucy Gibbons Morse, author of " The Chezzles." 
$1.25. A very engaging story of the anti-slavery 
agitation in New York City about 1850, describing 
life among the Quakers, containing charming scenes 
of child-life. 

Sold by all Booksellers. 

Sent, puHlputrl, by 



French Dyeing and Cleansing 

LARGEST IN AMERICA. Established 1829. 


17 Temple Place, Boston. 
365 Fifth Avenue, New York. 


284 Boylston Street, Back Bay. 

2206 Washington Street, Koxbary. 1350a Beacon Street, Brookline 
393 Broadway, So. Boston. 412 Harvard Street, Cambridge. 


Bundles Called for and Delivered Free. 


of evepg description. 

The Ittest in style, beat in quality, at moderate price*. 

Gymnasium shoes of all kinds at low prices. 

Special discount to Wellealey Students and Teacher*. 

47 T e ^P ,e P ,aee ' B0S50JI. 

Vol. II. WELLESLEY, NOVEMBER 18, 1893. No. 2. 










The Wellesley Magazine is published monthly, from October to June, by a board of editors chosen 
from the Senior Class. 

All literary contributions may be sent to Miss Mary K. Conyngton, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

All items of college interest, and communications to be inserted in the department of Free Press, will be 
received by Miss Anna K. Peterson, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

All alumna news should be sent to Miss Maude R. Keller, Wellesley, Mass. 

Advertising business is conducted by Miss Florence M. Tobey, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Subscriptions to the Magazine and other business communications in all cases should be sent to Miss Helen 
R. Stahr, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Terms, $2.00 per year ; single copies 25 cents. 


AN attempt to find the starting point of university extension would carry 
the student back a thousand years to the time when the world com- 
menced to realize that education belonged not to the church alone but to 
the people as a whole. The slow progress of this movement was marked 
by such sure signs as the summoning of Alcuin from England by Charle- 
magne, to assist in organizing a school system for France; the invention of 
the printing press; the various translations which transformed the thought 
of the Middle Ages, and the foundation and growth of the great British and 
Continental universities. 

During the present century a step in advance has been taken in the at- 
tempt to extend higher education to those who cannot give their whole 
time to such training. The earliest work of this distinct character in 


Great Britain was at Glasgow, where a number of workingmen assembled 
for lectures from Dr. George Birkbeck. About two years later, in 1802 
and lasting till 1833, lectures were conducted by Rev. William Turner, a 
Unitarian clergyman of Ne\vcastle-on-Tyne. The outgrowth of these lec- 
tures was the Literary and Philosophical Society of Newcastle, now a strong 
extension centre, affiliated to the University of Cambridge. 

In 1823-24, Dr. Birkbeck resumed in London the work begun in 
Glasgow by establishing the Birkbeck Institute, and in 1842 this was fol- 
lowed by the People's College at Sheffield, which suggested to Frederic Den- 
ison Maurice the famous Workingmen's College of London, which, with 
Queen's College for Women, is so inseparably connected with his name and 

In this country, as early as 1808, Prof. Benj. Silliman of Yale gave a 
course in popular science in New Haven. The work in America differed 
from that in England in developing the lyceum lecture system for popular 
instruction, though in 1831 a workingmen's college was established in New 
Haven, much on the modern extension lecture plan. Later, the lyceums 
broadened into teachers', mechanics' and farmers' institutes, summer schools 
and, most important and far-reaching of all, the great Chautauqua system 
for home study. 

Extension lecture courses, as popularly understood, originated in the 
north of England with Prof. James Stuart of Cambridge University, who, 
in 1867, gave a course in pedagogy and allied subjects to some classes of 
teachers. From this he developed the system now in use and, in 1873, 
when the written examination was added, the plan obtained formal recogni- 
tion from the University of Cambridge. The success of the work led, in 
1876, to the formation of the London society for the extension of university 
teaching, for the avowed purpose of providing for the needs of the great 
metropolis, the lecturers being chosen freely from both Cambridge and Ox- 
ford. In 1878, the work was definitely assumed by Oxford, but meeting 
with indifferent success was abandoned till 1885, when it was reorganized 
and has since been conducted with great vigor. The courses consist of 
twelve lectures each, but at Oxford courses of six or more lectures are al- 
lowed, though certificates are granted onhy for twelve lecture courses. 


A distinct advance was made when Cambridge, in 1886, extended to exten- 
sion students the privileges of affiliation to the university. Two groups of 
six courses are arranged with sequence in subjects. The candidate for af. 
filiation must take one of these groups entire and two courses from the 
other group; in addition to this he must pass an examination in elementary 
mathematics and Latin and one other language. Such students, called 
"students affiliated to the University of Cambridge," are excused from the 
" Little-go " examination at entrance and from the first year's work. This 
is of great value in raising university extension work in England to 
university grade, even though few students succeed in finishing the some- 
what rigid course of training necessary for affiliation. 

The first definite attempt to introduce the plan in America was in 1887, in 
an address by Prof. H. B. Adams of Johns Hopkins University, at a meeting 
of the American Library Association at the Thousand Jslands. The idea 
was immediately put in practice in connection with the Buffalo library, 
under the superintendent, Mr. J. N. Larned. A course of twelve lectures 
in economics was given by Prof. E. W. Bemis, now of Chicago University. 
He prepared a syllabus with analyzed notes and bibliographical references 
and conducted a class, besides giving personal help to any who cared to 
meet him at stated times at his desk in the library. Another course fol- 
lowed this at Buffalo by Mr. Lunt, and Dr. Bemis repeated his course else- 

In January, 1888, the subject was formally presented to the library com. 
mittee of the regents of the University of Jthe State of New York, and in 
July of the same year to the University Convocation by Mr. Melvil Dewey, 
then chief librarian of Columbia College, and from the first an enthusiastic 
advocate of university extension. One year later Mr. Dewey was elected 
secretary of the university and through his influence the extension work 
has been organized as a distinct department of the university. In May, 
1891, the Legislature appropriated $10,000 for organizing the new depart- 
ment, thus putting New York on record as the first to establish a State de- 
partment for university extension. 

In 1890, under the leadership of Dr. Pepper, provost of the University of 
Pennsylvania, a society was formed in Philadelphia and its secretary, Mr. 


George Henderson, now of the Universit}' of Chicago, was sent to England 
to study the movement. Meantime, Prof. R. G. Moulton, "the apostle of 
university extension to America," came to this country through the Red- 
path Lyceum Bureau of Boston and lectured to enthusiastic audiences in 
the Atlantic and adjoining States, giving several weeks to the Philadelphia 

The great success of his work in Philadelphia, and desire for unity in ef- 
forts and methods, led, in the winter of 1890-91, to the reorganization of the 
Philadelphia society into the American society for the extension of univer- 
sity teaching, with the same headquarters and officers. An advisory coun- 
cil of college presidents and other educationists was appointed and an official 
organ, University Extension, was established. 

During the winter of 1890 the Society for University and School Exten- 
sion was founded by Brooklyn teachers and allied itself with the ablest pro- 
fessors of the neighboring college. 

At about the same time the Western State universities of Wisconsin, In- 
diana, Minnesota and others, and the Newberry Library in Chicago took up 
the movement and were enthusiastically supported by the townspeople of 
their districts, while as far west as California the subject claimed the serious 
attention of educators and literary men. 

In New England, university extension has made somewhat slow progress,, 
though excellent work is being done at those centres where it has found a 
foothold. Conspicuous is the work of Brown University, which in 1891 
created a distinct department with Prof. Munro as director. In Connecti- 
cut, work is conducted in affiliation with the American society. The gov- 
erning board has two representatives from co-operating teaching institutions 
and a delegate from each active centre, besides an official representative 
from the American society who is ex officio member of the executive board. 
In Maine, lecturers are also sent out from Bowdoin and Colby, and several 
independent centres have been established in various sections. 

In New York, the minimum for an extension lecture course, recognized offi- 
cially as a full course and used by registered regents' centres, is ten lectures 
with class and paper work. Organizers and inspectors are sent out from 
the department to centres, and traveling libraries of books referred to in the 


syllabus, as well as lantern slides, maps and other illustrative material are 
lent to regents' centres. At the end of the course an examiner sent from 
the university conducts an examination prepared by the department, but 
covering only the ground indicated in the syllabus. In this way the work of 
both lecturer and student comes under university inspection, and the presenta- 
tion of the same questions from a slightly different point of view gives 
another advantage over an examination prepared by a lecturer. The follow- 
ing, quoted from an article by Secretary Dewey in the Critic, August 22, 
1891, gives this subject more in detail : 

"It has been found impossible to secure from most students continuous, 
systematic work, without holding before them the attainment of suitable 
academic recognition. The student in college has to study for his work in 
life. He is surrounded by earnest fellow students and an atmosphere tend- 
ing to keep him interested and enthusiastic in his work. He gets, three 
times a day, the inspiration of contact with his teachers. The extension 
student meets his but once a week, while his days are filled with his regular 
business or labor, and distractions swarm about him. If then, as is true, col- 
leges find academic credentials a necessary incentive to the completion of a 
balanced course, is it strange that experience has proved it vastly more 
necessary for the extension student to have constantly before him the possi- 
bility of such formal recognition of his work as he can prove himself to 
merit ? To command the respect of the public, or of the student himself, these 
tests must be conducted with dignity and care, and the credentials must be 
issued by an institution of recognized standing. 

" This part of extension machinery, which is most difficult for societies to 
secure, is the very part that the university of the State can supply best and 
with least expense. We have already in full operation the most carefully 
organized system of examinations in this country, if not in the world. Five 
times each year, at intervals of about sixty days, we hold examinations at 
convenient points throughout the State, the same examination sometimes 
being held at the same time in over three hundred different institutions. 
The preparation, printing and distribution of question papers is surrounded 
by safeguards unknown to ordinary scholastic examinations. Every exam- 
ination is supervised by the principal of the institution or his deputy and by 
a regents' examiner holding his commission under the university seal. The 


results are all reported under oath. In short, the precautions taken are 
such that these tests command the highest respect for their absolute integ- 
rity. Pass-cards, certificates and diplomas are now awarded for all subjects 
taught in the academies and the regents have also adopted plans and taken 
initial steps for adding all college and university studies for which there 
shall be demand. . . . By ordinance of the regents, their examinations 
are open to all citizens, regardless of age, sex, color, nationality, residence, 
or connection with any school. The university of the State is therefore in 
a position to give the best test and the most prized credentials more readily 
than an} r other body. Societies for the extension of university teaching are 
thus enabled to hold before their pupils the possibility of winning university 
credentials, and extension students in this State have every inducement to 
follow systematic courses." 

The extension department of the University of the State of New York 
unlike others, includes all agencies — outside the regular teaching institu- 
tions — for the dissemination of higher education throughout the State, such 
as libraries, museums, lecture courses, study clubs, reading circles, summer 
schools and other organizations of a similar character. Under the new 
university law, traveling libraries of one hundred volumes are sent out to 
communities which guarantee proper use, and promise to make serious efforts 
to establish a local public library as soon as interest warrants. Additional 
privileges are accorded to public libraries submitting to State inspection. 

The new Catholic summer school of America, situated in Plattsburg on 
Lake Champlain, was this year chartered by the University. This is their 
national summer school, a Roman Catholic Chautauqua, and as such marks 
a definite point of progress in the educational development of a large mass 
of our population. In the New York extension department are, therefore, 
the two great summer schools: Chautauqua, which is international and 
non-sectarian, and the Catholic summer school, which aims to include all 
Roman Catholics in America, though not excluding any outside the church 
who wish to study with them. 

In the other Middle Atlantic States, the usual course consists of six lec- 
tures, with class and paper work and the examination at the end of the 
course, corresponding to the standards of the American society situated in 


The University Extension Seminary, opened last fall, is another activity 
of the American Society. The courses are for the training of extension 
teachers and organizers, and last year had ten students enrolled from East- 
ern and Western colleges. Still another feature of the society's work is the 
summer meeting, which held its first session in 1893 in Philadelphia. Two 
hundred students enrolled and work was of unusually high grade. Among 
the lecturers were leading professors of this country and England. 

In the South, centres have been in existence from the first in Kentucky 
and Tennessee, while one of the most loyal supporters of university exten- 
sion in the United States is Col. William Preston Johnston, president of 
Tulane University, New Orleans. 

In the Central States the greatest activity centres about Chicago Univer- 
sity, with its extension division in active operation. President Harper, still 
retaining his principalship of the Chautauqua system, has introduced a sim- 
ilar spirit into the Chicago work, and an effort is being made to guide and 
strengthen all efforts for self-improvement outside the ordinary schools. 
Twenty-seven centres are organized within the city limits, and about fifty 
more in Illinois and neighboring States. 

The university extension division has six departments, each with its own 
secretary. They are 

1. Lecture study. This corresponds to university extension lecture courses 
as popularly understood, and is similar to the plan adopted by the American 
Society. In addition a scheme has been worked out corresponding to that of 
Cambridge, for giving university recognition to systematic work. 

2. The class work department is didactic, aiming to duplicate, at a dis- 
tance from the university, work done on the campus. The instruction is 
given by special extension teachers, university instructors, docents, fellows, 
graduate students and others. Students who wish this work to count toward 
a bachelor's degree must take the regular examination given at the 

3. The correspondence teaching department conducts a similar line of 
work by correspondence. Printed instruction sheets are mailed to students 
and credit for the work is given, the same as in residence, with certain con- 
ditions of examination and the requirement that not more than half of the 
work for a degree may be done in absentia. 


4. The examination department arranges examinations for accrediting 
the work of the other departments. 

5. The library and publication department sends out to the centres loan 
libraries of forty or fifty volumes, and other selected libraries to classes. It 
also basin charge the official printing for the division. 

6. The department of district organization and training looks toward 
more complete organization of the work, in the federation of centres and 
training of lecturers and organizers in extension methods and ideas. 

In Ohio, three separate organizations are actively engaged in extension 
work. The Cincinnati society, drawing its inspiration from the city univer- 
sity, designs its work largely for teachers, and is therefore less popular in 
character. The courses last for thirty weeks, and class work is made an 
important feature. In Cleveland, the Western Reserve University has 
brought about the formation of a society for the extension of university 
teaching. The teachers here attend in large numbers, but the S3'stem is not 
so directly didactic as in Cincinnati. A third society is a federation of four- 
teen colleges in the central and southern parts of the State. The plan o 
work is not )'et published, but organization is now going on. Dr. Gordy, of 
the State University at Athens, is an energetic extension lecturer, and has 
helped to infuse a real extension spirit into the work done by the Ohio 

In Michigan, some centres draw their lecturers from the State university 
at Ann Arbor, while others are affiliated with the University of Chicago. 
The citizens of Flint are making special efforts to arouse an interest in the 
movement throughout their district and effect a permanent organization 
with high educational ideals. 

In Wisconsin, a distinctive feature has been established in their farmers' 
institutes. Twelve thousand dollars is annually appropriated by the Legis- 
lature to the university for conducting these institutes, which are held at 
different points throughout the State during the winter months. They are 
in charge of a superintendent, who is a member of the faculty and has his 
office in the agricultural building on the university grounds. Speakers of 
these institutes are chosen from the university and from the intelligent 
farmers of the State. In addition to these institutes, a series of summer 
schools for teachers are held in the summer and during the last two years 
these have nearly doubled in attendance and educational results. 


In Minnesota and Indiana, the Association of Collegiate Alumnae has been 
from the first identified with the work, the lecturers in both States often 
being sent from the State university. The first course in Indiana was given 
by Prof. J. W. Jenks, whose success at that time has followed him undimin- 
ished in his work with the New York department, since his transfer from 
Indiana to Cornell. In Winona, Minn., a series of lectures was given last 
winter by Prof. Freeman of the University of Wisconsin, and several of 
the Western Indiana centres draw their lecturers from the University of 
Chicago instead of from the State university. 

The University of Kansas sends out members of its own faculty to centres 
in the State, and credits earned in extension work count toward a second 

In the Western States a serious difficulty is the great distances that must 
be traversed by the lecturer, and the cost of transportation. In Wyoming 
and Colorado, much has been done, in spite of this difficulty, and results 
will grow as the population increases. 

In California, from the beginning of the State university at Berkeley, in 
1874, lectures were given by professors in adjoining cities and towns. Defi- 
nite effort is made to make the university of practical benefit to the people 
at large through its bulletins from the agricultural department; a like ser- 
vice for astronomical science is done by the Lick Observatory. In 1891, a 
scheme for university extension instruction was planned and put in practice. 
Each subject has sixteen sessions of two hours each, and consists of lectures, 
quizzes and classes. The work in California has been from the first schol- 
arly and severe. No attempt is made to introduce a popular element, and 
attendants are generally students wishing to do thorough work. 

There are now three general conferences for university extension in 
America: one at Albany during the first week of July, in connection with 
the University Convocation of the State of New York ; another at Chautau- 
qua, usually the first week in August, and a third is held during the Christ- 
mas holidays at Philadelphia, under the auspices of the American Society. 
The New York meeting was this year omitted, because of the Extension 
Congress held in Chicago in the same month. 

This is briefly the situation in America to-day. The best plan of work 
for England may differ from ours, because the training and outlook of an 


American are so unlike those of an Englishman. But two primary factors 
are personal instruction and library privileges. These must be part of any 
efficient plan for raising the American people to a higher standard of edu- 
cated and refined civilization, the only safety of a sovereign people. 

Myrtilla Avery, '91. 


Strong daughter of the Truth, with uplift eyes 

To catch the sweetness of thy Father's face 

And learn His will for thee, keep thou thy place 
Far vanward, where the hymus of glory rise: 
Guide, thou, my weaker footsteps, who art wise! 

Teach me to know the great and wondrous grace 

Of thy fine self-lessness, and speak apace 
The word of life that in thy heart's depth lies. 

Like Him who is the Pattern for us all 
Thou art, in less degree, the way, the life, 
The truth, to me, thy child. ... No shades can creep 

Along thy pathway, neither sound of strife 

Fall on thine ear; for thy soul*s peace, so deep, 
Is hid with Christ in God, heyond recall. 

M. G. M., '92. 


LIKE a young man newly come from the wrestling ground, annointed i 
chapleted and very calm, the genius of the Greeks appears before us. 
Upon his soul there is as } - et no burden of the world's pain; the creation 
that groaneth and travaileth together has touched him with no sense of 
anguish, nor has he yet felt sin. The pride and strength of adolescence are 
his, audacit} r and endurance, alternations of sublime repose and boyish 
noise, grace, pliancy and stubbornness and power, love of all things fair and 
radiant in the world, the frank enjoyment of the open air, free merriment 
and melancholy well beloved. Of these adolescent qualities, of this clear, 
stainless personality, this conscience, whole and pure and reconciled to na- 
ture, what survives among us now ? 


History is all one and without the Greeks we should be nothing. But, 

just as an old man of ninety is not the same being as the boy of nineteen, 

nay, cannot even recall to memory how and what he felt when the pulse of 

life was gathering strength in his veins, even so, the intense introspective 

spirit of humanity, inspired by non-pagan tendencies, now looks back upon 

the youth of Hellas and wonders what she was in that blest time. The 

world has grown old; we are gray from the cradle onward, swathed in the 

husks of outworn creeds, rocked in the unsatisfied desires of many races, the 

anguish of the death and birth of successive civilizations has passed over 

our souls. Life itself has become a thousand times more difficult than it 

was in the springtime of the world ; for, between us and the Greeks flows 

the "nine times twisted stream of death." Life, according to the modern 

formula, is conflict. In the midst of this conflict, this "struggle to be what 

we are not and do what we cannot," in sympathy with the voice that cries — 

" The times are out of joint; O cursed spite, 
That I was ever born to set them right," 

Matthew Arnold reluctantly appeared. Then, as though the task of spirit- 
ualizing what he deemed an era of unparalleled materialism had been im- 
posed upon his shoulders, he sought what Keats and Wordsworth had already 
found sympathy with, the repose of the Greeks. 

Nowhere, at any time, has a higher point of repose been reached than in 
the sculpture that was pre-eminently the art of Greeks. The Greek was 
one with nature. This was the kej'-note of their sympathies, the well-spring 
of their deep thoughts, the'principal potentiality of all they achieved in art. 
To pierce the veil of this mysterious mirror is to understand their sculpture 
and literature ; for what is Apollo but the magic of the sun whose soul is 
light? What is Aphrodite but the love charm of the sea? Or what is Pan 
but the mystery of nature, the felt and hidden want prevailing in all? In the 
adolescent age, mankind, not having yet fully arrived at spiritual self-con- 
sciousness, was still sinless and simple. There was a harmony of man with 
nature in a well balanced and complete humanity; the bloom of health was 
upon a conscious being, satisfied as flowers and stars are satisfied with the 
conditions of temporary existence. 

To this state of Paradisal innocence succeeded the fall. Repose was lost, 
for the bestial side encroached upon the spiritual, and the sense of beauty 


was perturbed by lust. Then Christianity coinicted man of sin. The 
unity of man with nature was abruptly broken. Flesh and spirit were de- 
fined and counterpoised. Man abiding far from God in the flesh sought God in 
in the spirit. His union with God was no longer an actual state of mundane 
innocency, but a distant, future, dim celestial possibility, to be achieved at 
the sacrifice of this fair life of earth. It was not for nothing that Christian- 
ity, in the widening of spiritual horizons, closed the ancient and inaugurated 
the modern age. While life is no longer definite as it was to the Greeks, 
like a jewel in its well defined consistency, the hope that went abroad across 
the earth so many centuries ago lias raised our eyes to heaven. Life, to-day 
regarded as a conflict or otherwise, whether from the standpoint of science 
or religion, is undetermined ; it is only one term of an infinite series, the 
significance whereof is relative to the unknown quantities beyond it. The 
advent of "evolution " has not yet restored the mind to the passionless 
bride, divine tranquillity, which the Greeks enjoyed, and until that time flesh 
and spirit cannot be reconciled. Yet, it is not 

" In vain our pent wills fret, 

And would the world subdue 
Limits we do not set, 
Condition all we do." 

For the straining after the infinite, the passion for the impossible is now 
held, instead of the disease it was in the eyes of the Greeks, to be the truest 
sign of the soul's health ; which eventually betokens reconciliation of flesh 
and spirit, and therefore repose. 

These are the conditions that must define Matthew Arnold's position in 
the nineteenth century. In so far as he is fundamentally a truth-seeker, 
his attitude reveals symptoms of health in his soul. But where is the re- 
pose? He never arrived at any expression of absolute truth ; not even such 
as Clough gives us in his belief that " Tho' I perish,. truth is so ! " On the 
other hand, in so far as he comprehended a mode of existence in which the 
world itself is adequate to the soul, he satisfies the tests of Greek repose. 
But with no delights in the mere pleasure of living on the one hand, and 
without any definite Christian hope on the other, his soul's health is beset 
by incurable complications, for which unconscious Greek ideals refuse a 
remedy no less than do our nineteenth century theories of development. 


Many complications reveal themselves in his attitude and in order to un- 
derstand this fully we must find his interpretation of life. According to his 
own conception, poetry is a criticism of life. His poetry, therefore, must be 
accepted as his most sincere interpretation of life. He sees life b}' identify, 
ing himself with the intense introspective struggle around. He becomes 
the personification of its conflicting forces. At the same time firmly poised 
amid confusion, critical rather than creative, and girded by stoical rather 
than religious tendencies, be penetrates to the heart of the undetermined 
issues. He breathes confusion and doubt. He sees men on all sides "slaves 
or madmen " and " knows not what to pray for." " His own soul abides in 

There is ever 

" The old unquiet breast, 
Which neither deadens into rest, 
Nor ever feels the fiery glow 
That whirls the spirit from itself away, 
But fluctuates to and fro, 
Never by passion quite possessed, 
And never quite benumbed by the world's sway. » 

He is 

"Here on a darkling plain 
Swept with confused alarms, 
Where ignorant armies clash by night." 

Conscious of his own ignorance he cries out in his superiority, 
" O frivolous mind of man, 
Light ignorance, and hurrying unsure tho't, 
Though man bewails you not, 
How I bewail you." 

It is evident his fellow men can give him no help. 

Then he longs for repose. He even thinks it more desirable and blessed 
to be well deceived, to be lapped in sweet delusion, and is filled with long- 
ing and regret for a faith he might have clasped. He clearly discloses 
what would have been his course if he had lived in the early days of the 
faith, where in " Obermann Once More " he exclaims : 

" O had I lived in that great day, 
How had its glory new 
Filled earth and heaven and caught away 
My ravished spirit too ! 


No cloister floor of humid stone 
Had been too cold for me; 
For me no Eastern desert lone 
Had been too far to flee." 

For him the old faith had passed away, the new "not yet born." He hears 
the world say, "Your faith is now but a dead, time-exploded dream," and he 
wanders "between two worlds, one dead, the other powerless to be born." 

Meanwhile, without faith, discountenancing revelation, he finds in man "a 
moral plan, clear, prescribed," and thus following his self-made creed he 
keeps the stern moral level of the ascetic by endurance, patience and passive 

" So it must be! Yet, while leading 
A strained life, while overfeeding, 
Like the rest, his wit with reading, 

No small profit that man earns, 
Who through all he meets can steer him, 
Can regret what cannot clear him, 
Cling to what can truly cheer him; 

Who each dny more surely learns 
That an impulse from the distance 
Of his deepest, best existence 
To the words ' Hope, Light, Persistence ' 

Strongly sets and truly burns." 

In somewhat higher strain he says: 

" Hath man no second life? 
Pitch this one high! 

Sits there no judge in heaven our sin to see? 
More strictly then the inward judge obey! 
Was Christ a man like us? Ah, let us try 
If we then too can be such a man as he." 

Futility of desire leads to suppression of all emotion. His conception of sin 
is lack of self-control or immoderate desire. Therefore self-control, "a 
struggling, tasked morality," is his method. His nature yearns for 

" Moderate tasks and moderate leisure, 
Quiet living, strict kept measure 
Both in suffering and in pleasure." 

Empedocles, the mouthpiece of Arnold's own self, finds discontent in aught 
save moderate desire, and exclaims : 


" That so often here 
Happiness mocked our prayer 
I think might make us fear 
A like event elsewhere; 
Make us not fly to dreams hut moderate desire." 

Without the hope that leads to action he yet, like 

" The east how'd low before the blast; 
In patient, deep disdain 
She let the legions thunder past 
And plunged in thought again. 

" So well she mused, a morning broke 
Across her spirit gray; 
A conquering, new-born joy awoke 
And filled her life with day. 

" ' Poor world, she cried, ' so deep accurst, 
That runst from pole to pole, 
To seek a draught to slake thy thirst 
Go, seek it in thy soul ! ' " 

He holds a faint hope "that the river of Time" may acquire a "solemn 
peace of its own," and that years hence, perhaps, " may dawn an age more 
fortunate, alas ! than we "; but it is not for him. It is only — 

" As the banks fade dimmer away 
As the stars come out and the night wind 
Brings up the stream 
Murmurs and scents of the infinite sea," 

that the hope of the race can know fulfilment. 

Like his master Goethe, he is conscious of an intense spiritual unrest. 
He employs his whole soul to control it. He strove to gain Goethe's "wide 
and luminous view." Like him, 

" He pursued a lonely road, 
His eyes on nature's plan. 
Neither made man too much a God 
Nor God too much a man." 

He represents Empedocles winning a thousand "glimpses of the truth"; but 
he " never sees a whole," and seeking for rest and satisfaction he finally 
sinks within himself. 


" Once read thy own breast aright 

And thou hast done with fears. 
Man gets no other light 

Be; rch he a thousand years. 
Sink in thyself, there ask what ails thee, at that shrine." 

" Sink in thyself," "Resolve to be thyself, and know that he who finds 
himself loses his misery." 

This is Arnold's creed. This is the consummation of the conflict. He 
has longed for freedom and repose, which only come with perfect develop- 
ment, and the only alternative for a strong soul, that refuses the higher 
Christian peace, is stoical "self-repose." Therefore, to find truth in his own 
soul is his Herculean task. 

As a disciple of culture he pushed self-development to the extreme. The 
result is painfully witnessed in the intellectual despair and final death of 
Empedocles. For him, it is true, "Life still left human effort scope," but 
the narrowing scope of a treadmill ; and since life "teems with ill," his 
words become a wail : 

" Nurse no extravagant hope; 
Because thou must not dream, thou needest not despair." 

It is because his creed has failed him that Empedocles leaps finally into 
the crater. He could no longer live with men as they do, nor wholly suf- 
fice unto himself. He has not been true to " his own, only, true, deep- 
buried self, being one with which we are one with the whole world." He 
cannot say he has "lived ever in the light of his own soul, for he has lived 
in wrath and gloom," far from his own soul and far from warmth and light. 
As in the case of Empedocles, the chief opponents in this mad struggle for 
self-control must arise in the man's own soul. This conflict within a man 
"The Buried Life" beautifully depicts. 

" Hardly have we, for one little hour, 
Been on our own line, have we been ourselves. 
And long we try in vain to speak and act; 
Our hidden self and what we say and do 
Is eloquent, is well, but 'tis not true." 

There comes no rest to the weary man, 

" Even when man forsakes all sin, 
Is pure and just, 


Abandons all that makes 

His welfare insecure, 

Other existences there are that clash with ours." 

As a worshiper of culture be longs for religion because trust comes witb it ; 
but tbe means to attain peace through Christianity is self-sacrifice, which 
directly opposes Arnold's creed. So there is no religious refuge for him. 
It is true he believes in a Power, who said — 

a Power 

" See I make all things new " ; 

" That through the breadth and length 
Of earth and air and sea 
In men, and plants, and stones, 
Hath toil perpetually, 
And travails, pants and moans, 
Fain would do all things well; but sometimes fails in strength." 

a universal God, who, as Arnold longs to do, 

" Proceeds at any nod 
And quietly declaims the cursings of himself." 

But this God is as intangible and unsatisfactory a personality as Arnold's 

"Power that works for righteousness," which he gives us in his prose works ; 

and from as impersonal force, despite the fact that "energy of life may be 

kept on after the grave," tlio' not begun, Arnold himself obtains but little 

consolation and inspiration. As to the inspiration of a great life, in his 

elegiac poems he strikes 

" One common wave of thought and joy 
Lifting mankind again." 

But it is only a wave, whose ebb leaves Arnold more deeply sunk in self 
than before. He sees "the millions suffer still and grieve"; but for this in- 
tellectual grief and suffering, which alone appeal to him, he has no remedy 
save his own empty creed of "self-repose." 

Thus far the highest point attained in the conflict, according to nineteenth 
century conceptions of truth, is the point of calm endurance and stoical self- 
repose. This point, in reality, approaches much closer to the repose of the 
ancients than to any "rest that remains" to us in the future. For a retro- 
gressive process has guided Arnold's steps from the heights of unattainable 
truth, from the mysteries in the world around him, into his own self-con- 


sciousness. From the point of view of "self," his elaborate culture reaches 
out in all directions, and balancing the materials gathered from the past, 
thinks it finally finds repose in the perfect harmony of the Greek life. Hav- 
ing thus arrived at the highest point of self-possession and freedom possible 
under these conditions, Arnold is able to teach a gospel of repose. If he is 
not satisfied with his own rendering of it, at least he is sincere. In artistic 
tieatment he realized the value and need of the pure objectivity of the 
classic subjects and classic form. The laws of simplicity of form, purity of 
design, of self-restraint, of parsimony, both of thought and material, which 
gave to the expression of the mental activity of the Greeks its predominant 
sculpturesque quality, are the very essence of Arnold's creations, and dis- 
tinguishes them above all else from modern romantic art. In this clear-cut, 
sculpturesque quality the technical beauty harmonizes singularly with the 
spiritual. Just as in the Greek art spirit and matter were blended in one 
unity. Here Arnold's very self-imposed limitations and self-renunciation 
before the mysterious unknown, especially so far as it enters unconsciously 
into his art, aid in perfecting the work. For ancient art aimed at the per- 
fect within definite limits, because human life was then circumscribed by 
mundane limitations and its conditions unhesitatingly accepted. 

But, while Arnold's art touches and sways in sympathy with the grand 
major chord of spontaneous, pulsating Greek life, it is weighed down by long- 
ing and regret and reverberates in one long minor, whose key-note is "self." 
In the Greek art, in spite of a tinge of sadness, as if it were the shadow of 
.an overhanging fate, self-sufficiency always gives an air of cheerfulness. In 
Arnold the unconscious self-sufficiency of the Greek has given way to con- 
scious self-repose. Nevertheless, a prominent characteristic in Arnold is the 
buoyancy with which in his best moments he either throws off the pain or 
takes refuge in some soothing digression. His serene sense of fate looks into 
the face of the fates and reads them with the large and frank insight of the an- 
cient poets, without any moral fallacies or religious reservations. The effect 
is a very close approach to the Greek repose of inaction. Like a Venus, 
which is typical of a large class of Greek art, it is in comparative repose, 
not because it is above disturbance, but because it is removed from it. 

With the Greeks, as has already been said, the key-note of repose was their 
union with nature. Man, being now distinct from nature and standing on 


the outside, can enjoy its beauties as the Greeks in the very midst of them 
never could. Arnold understands this. Nevertheless, he seeks the classic 
relation of man and nature. Unlike Wordsworth, whom he attempts to fol- 
low, he is not sufficiently master of his own self to mingle his words and 
those of Nature, nor yet with his deep soul, knowledge, unrest and sadness 
can he adopt the spontaneous and unconscious delight in the earthly beauty 
and joy of the Greeks. 

The nearest approach to the latter is in the lines where he is carried be- 
yond himself, as in " Thyrsis," in a description of the break and smell of 
musk carnations — 

" Sweet William with his homely cottage smell 
And stocks in fragrant bloom, 
With whitening hedges and unrumpling fern, 
And bluebells, trembling by the forest ways, 
And scent of hay new mown." 

Nature often affords Arnold a joyful setting for some dark picture, as in the 
dark, despairing silhouette of Empedocles against the joyous refrains of Cal- 
lisles. Yet, the note of regret is that of Arnold, not of the nature-loving 
Greek lad, as he sings: 

" Far, far from here 

The Adriatic breaks in a warm bay 

Among the green Illysian hills, and there 

The sunshine in the happy glen is fair, 

And by the sea and in the brakes 

The grass is cool, the sea-side air 

Buoyant and fresh, the mountain flower 

More virginal and sweet than ours." 

Arnold's most characteristic feeling for nature is sympathy with its 
broad, free, open aspects, which are a source of strength and comfort apart 
from his own soul. By this means he often seeks to restore and refresh 
the minds he had perplexed and bewildered by painful problems. In this 
way even his elegies acquire a buoyancy. He enjoys plumbing the depths 
of another melancholy; but, even so, the effect is not that of Shelley's most 
melancholy lyrics. It does not make us faint under the poet's own feeling 
of desolation. Thus in both poems on " Obermann " he turns in the end to 
nature. In the one he says : 

" Farewell ! Under the sky we part, in the stern Alpine dell," 


in the other, " The vision ended ; he awoke and turned along the banks of 

" To where in haze 
The Valois opens fair, 
And glorious there without a sound 
Across the glimmering lake, 
High in the Valois' depth profound, 
I saw the morning break." 

Throughout the tale of Sohrab and Rustun's combat is heard the flow of the 
Oxus stream, and at last 

" The longed for dash of waves is heard and wide 
His luminous home of waters opens, bright 
And tranquil, from whose floor the new-bathed stars 
Emerge, and shine upon the Aral Sea." 

The whole of the poem entitled " Self-Dependence " embodies his most 

heart-felt appeal. It marks the loftiest height of struggle as well as depth 

of dark despair. 

His cry 

" O'er the sea and to the stars he sends " 
" Calm me, ah, compose me to the end 
Ah once more, I cried, ye stars, ye waters 
On my heart your mighty charm renew, 
Still, still let me as I gaze upon you 
Feel my soul becoming vast like you." 

So passionate is his appeal for strength to subdue passion that 

" From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven, 
Over the lit seas' unquiet way, 
In the rustling night air came the answer 
' Wouldst thou be as these are ? Live as they ? ' " 

From his own soul and nature, alike, Arnold hears but one voice. " Be 
thyself." This problem is unsolved, he then seems to say, But insoluble or 
not, let us shake off melancholy; let us recall the pristine strength of the 
human spirit and not forget that we have access to great resources still. 

Arnold's secret, after all, is not to minimize the tragedy or sadness of 
the human lot, but to turn our attention from the sadness or the tragedy to 
the strength which it illustrates and the calm into which the most tumultu- 
ous passions subside. In his essay on poetry, Arnold assures us that in 


poetry, as a criticism of life, the spirit of our race will find, as time goes on 
and other helps fail, "its consolation and stay." But in the gloomy solitari- 
ness of such introspective self-repose and pagan stoicism what light or 
strength can we receive? The calmness of a Venus removed from the <lis- 
traction of our earthly feelings cannot but seem inadequate as a healthful 
solution of our problems. Truth must be found through action. There 
can be no repose for man under present conditions until there is equipoise 
of the fulness of these earthly feelings, when man and nature are again 
united ; but not unitedin the forced relation Arnold teaches. Arnold's gos- 
pel of repose is an impossible one because it goes backward, not forward. 

It is for a greater than Arnold, and more universal and hopeful singer 
to complement the half truth which Arnold mourns. Browning likewise 
found truth within the soul. 

" There is an inmost centre in man 
Where truth abides in fullness, but 
To know truth one must open a way 
Whence the imprisoned splendor may escape." 

He bids the soul release its truth that it may grasp eternal Truth and 
make the loftiest conception of life, the attainment of Truth, along the line 
of self-development. The new freedom of man must consist in submission 
to the order of the universe as it exists. The beautiful Greek life cannot 
be restored. Nor need we cling to the convent or the prison life of early 
Catholicity. The healthy acceptance of the physical laws to which we are 
subordinated need not prevent our full consciousness of moral law, and the 
final discovery that there is no antagonism between our flesh and spirit, but 
rather a most intimate connection must place the man of the future upon a 
higher level and a firmer standing-ground than the Greeks. Experience 
and demonstration will then show what the Greeks felt instinctively. Then 
repose will be permeated and strengthened by the ever-enduring influence 
of Christianity; the tact of the healthy youth will be succeeded by the calm 
reason of maturity. J. K., '91. 



Out on the cliffs at twilight, 
With sea-winds in one's hair, 

The breadth and sweep 

Of the mighty deep, 
And the sigh of the ocean's prayer. 

One hears it confess 

Its sinfulness 
In the sob of its ebb and flow, 

While softsweet, — 

Close at one's feet, 
The waters come and go. 

Out on the cliffs at twilight; 
The flowers their silence keep: 

The roses fold 

Their hearts of gold 
In their petals and go to sleep: 

But their fragrant prayer 

Is in all the air, 
As they rustle to and fro, 

While soft-sweet, — 

Close at one's feet, 
The waters come and go. 

Out on the cliffs at twilight, 
Only one's self and God, 
A lone star-ray 
Athwart the way 
That no man's foot has trod. 

Will He hear up there, 
• If one says a prayer? 
The fire-flies flit and glow, 
While soft^sweet, — 
Close at one's feet, 
The waters come and go. 

L. B. 



AFA.CT we boldly face is that most people decidedly prefer stories to 
essays and novels to history. Hence, a large portion of the average 
intelligence regarding social customs of by-gone times or countries not 
one's own is derived from the pages of fiction. I fancy most of us owe 
our picture of English society at the close of the last century to Jane 
Austen, filling the quaint, old-fashioned outlines with "Pride and Pre- 
judice " or "Sense and Sensibility.*' England in the days of Thackeray, 
Dickens and George Eliot is quite as real to our imaginations as the 
streets of Boston, and the people who make it thus alive with their virtues 
and their follies are the true pen-creations of these master workmen. In- 
deed, our conceptions of social life in the England of to-day are tinctured 
not a little by the words of Thomas Hardy, William Black and Walter Be- 
sant. May we not, therefore, reasoning from a close analogy, conclude that 
we American women with our beloved American ways are being constantly 
investigated and seriously considered on the other side of the Atlantic, from 
materials supplied by our popular novelists ? And have we not, with all 
our American pride and self-sufficiency, some slight curiosity as to the facts 
from which these friends are drawing their conclusions ? Do we not whis- 
per, be it never so softly, 

" O wad some power the giftie gie us, 
To see oursels as ithers see us? " 

Among the rather numerous novelists professing to delineate in realistic 
manner our typical American social life, William D. Howells, Henry James 
and Charles Dudley Warner stand out most prominently, and we, believing 
ourselves for the moment English born and bred, may rightly seek within 
their pages an enlargement of our somewhat indefinite ideas regarding these 
far-away cousins of ours in " The States." With this most laudable ambi- 
tion we take up " April Hopes " — a detailed description of some festive oc- 
casion called a Harvard Class Day, out of which, in the course of a few hun- 
dred printed pages, ripens, in society parlance, a " desirable match." We 
are straightway introduced to a Boston lady of fashion, Mrs. Pasmer, who 
we are told, could say "Thank you," with all "the deep gratitude which so- 


ciety cultivates for the smallest favors," and, though "keeping a conscience 
in regard to certain matters which she considered essentials, lived a thou- 
sand little lies every d;iy, and taught her daughter to do the same." That 
this butterfly is possessed of considerable innate energy is shown by her 
firm decision that her daughter shall marry a good American — if she can- 
not get a noble Englishman. We are permitted to be amused eavesdroppers 
at several conversations between our Mrs. Pasmer and other ladies, who, ac- 
cording to Howells, "called each other by their girl names, as is rather the 
custom in Boston with ladies who are in the same set, whether they are great 
friends or not." Thus it is we learn that charming girls mope the whole even- 
ing through at Boston parties, with no young men with whom to talk; that 
unless a girl fairly throws herself at the young men's heads she isn't no- 
ticed ; and that the young married women met last winter, just after a lot 
of pretty girls had come out, magnanimously resolving to give the buds a 
chance in society. We -certainly agree with Mrs. Pasmer in thinking this 
a strange state of things in America, and are therefore somewhat pre- 
pared for the following: 

" Don't }'ou think it is well," asked Mrs. Pasmer, deferentially, and under 
correction, as if she were hazarding too much, "to see somebody besides 
Boston people sometimes, if they're nice? That seems to be one of the ad- 
vantages of living abroad." 

"Oh, I think there are nice people every where," said the young man, with 
the bold expansion of youth. 

"Yes," sighed Mrs. Pasmer. "We saw two such charming young people 
coming in and out of the hotel in Rome. We were sure they were English, 
and they were from Chicago ! " 

Though devoting himself to the Pasrners, our author pauses to briefly 
sketch a Miss Henderson, in whom we instantly recognize that strong- 
minded young woman of whom we have heard occasional rumor. "She 
walked with long strides, knocking her skirts into fine eddies and tangles as 
she went, and she spoke in a bold, deep voice, with tones like a man's in it, 
all the more amusing and fascinating because of the perfectly feminine eyes 
with which she looked at you, and the nervous feminine gestures which she 
used while she spoke." 

From the conventionalities of "April Hopes " we pass to their complete 


absence in "The Lady of the Aroostook." This time we are introduced to 
a young girl from the wilds of northern Maine, who, summoned by her aunt 
in Venice, travels there by herself in a sailing vessel, the only lady on board. 
She is not at all aware of the singular situation and, because of the gentle- 
manly behavior of the other passengers, "who were Americans, and there- 
fore knew how to worship a woman," does not realize its unpleasantness 
until, long after, she gains a knowledge of the world's customs. Lyddy, de- 
scribed as clothed witli the stylishness that instinctive taste may evoke, even 
in a hill town, from study of paper patterns, Harper's Bazar and the cos- 
tumes of the summer boarders, is quite typical of many of Howells' hero- 
ines in her "fearlessness before others and timidity before herself." 

In "The Rise of Silas Lapham," absorbed by the strength of the hero, we 
feel that the women are made of very secondary importance. There is Mrs. 
Lapham, the Vermont school teacher of unsparing conscience, suddenly 
transplanted to great wealth and Boston society ,-and finding acclimation ex- 
tremely difficult, if not impossible. There is Penelope, little, brown and 
quaint, whose erudition is bounded by the circulating library; and Irene, 
with her exquisite beauty, perfect taste in dress, total ignorance of Macau- 
lay and Motley, and belief that the chief end of books is to furnish a room. 

We English are not a little surprised and unpleasantly jarred at the com. 
pany we next meet in Henry James' " liostonians " — a queer mixture of 
utterly unattractive women, who lecture on temperance and woman suf- 
frage, spiritualism and theosophy. The atmosphere in which the Beacon 
street lady moves, with incongruity enough, breathes neither refinement nor 
philanthropy. How we are enamored with this phase of the American 
woman as it is here presented, judge by descriptions such as these : " Miss 
Birdseye belonged to the Short Skirts League as a matter of course, for she 
belonged to any and every league that had ever been founded for almost any 
purpose whatever. She looked as if she had spent her life on platforms, in 
audiences, in conventions, in stances ; in her faded face was a kind of reflec- 
tion of ugly lecture lamps. . . . Mrs. Farrinder, at almost any time, 
had the air of being introduced by a few remarks. This little society was 
prolific in ladies who trotted about early and late with books from the Athe- 
naeum, always apparently straining a little, as if they might be too late for 
something. Even poor Miss Olive Chancellor of Beacon street, with her 


immense desire to know intimately some very poor girl, is foiled in her sev- 
eral attempts regarding three pale shop-maidens in that she took them more 
tragically than they took themselves." 

Yet, no whit daunted in our quest, we take up "Daisy Miller: a Study," 
and know not quite what to make of that astonishing creature, with her 
wonderful prettiness, her charming vivacity, remarkable frankness and com- 
pletely overwhelming disregard of Continental notions of propriety. We 
wonder whether we are to take her as a typical American girl, and are not 
a little uncertain about acknowledging our relationship. "We've got splen- 
did rooms at the hotel," chatters the unconscious object of our stern scru- 
tiny, "the best rooms in Rome. . . . It's a great deal nicer than I 
thought; I thought it would be fearfully quiet ; I was sure it would be 
awfully poky. I was sure we should be going round all the time with one 
of those dreadful old men that explain about the pictures and things. But 
we've only had a week of that, and now I'm enjoying myself. I know ever 
so many people, and they are all so charming. ... I, thank goodness, 
am not a young lady of this country. The young ladies of this country have 
a dreadfully poky time of it,'so far as I can learn; I don't see why I should 
change my habits for them." 

"I am afraid your habits are those of a flirt," said Winterbourne, gravely. 

"Of course they are," she cried, giving him her little smiling stare again. 
" I'm a fearful, frightful flirt ! ' 

With Winterbourne we wonder as we read whether she is innocent or 
reckless ; whether she is too light and childish, too uncultivated and unrea- 
soning, too provincial to have reflected upon her ostracism, or even to have 
perceived it; while at other times we truly believe that "she carries about 
in her elegant and irresponsible little organism a defiant, passionate, perfectly 
observant consciousness of the impression she produces." Yet, when, dead 
of the fatal Roman fever, caught through a recklessness difficult to un- 
derstand, she is laid beneath the thick spring flowers in the little Protestant 
cemetery, we half affirm with Giovanelli, " She was the most beautiful young 
lady I ever saw, and the most amiable — and the most innocent." And at 
least we fully agree with Winterbourne, when he said, months later, that it 
was on his conscience that he had done her injustice — she would have ap- 
preciated one's esteem. 


We turn yet once again to Kenry James, attracted by the " Portrait of a 
Lady," a second type of our young cousin, and it, too, is very different from 
the girls we know. A marked characteristic of Isabel Archer is her confi- 
dence both in herself and in others, and it is carefully explained that Amer- 
can girls are used to a great deal of deference. That she was a little pre- 
sumptuous is said, indeed, to be part of her charm. Among other things we 
are told that her habit was to carry fatigue to the farthest point, and confess 
it only when dissimulation had become impossible ; that her conversation 
had much of the vivacity observable in that of young ladies of her country, 
to whom the ear of the world is more directly presented than to their sisters 
in other lands. We are amused to learn that her way of taking compli- 
ments was rather dry — she got rid of them as rapidly as possible; not be- 
cause insensible to them, but simply unwilling to show how infinitely they 
pleased her. Finally we hear that her independent spirit, which we quite 
admire, is a mark of the American girl, who ends, we are told, by regarding 
perpetual assistance as a sort of derogation to her sanity. In the " fine pur- 
pose of her freedom, the resolution with which she seeks to be the maker of- 
her destiny, even the subtle weakness into which all this betraj's her," we 
with her critic, are not unwilling to take her as representative of womanly 
life to-day. 

From Howells and James we turn to Warner, and in "Their Pilgrimage " 
we soon stumble over other efforts to seize that fleeting phantom, the Amer- 
ican girl. We place them side by side with those we have already dis- 

This is the first — "Miss Nettie Sumner, perhaps twenty-one, who corre- 
sponded to what the internationalists call the American type, had evidently 
taken school education as a duck takes water, and danced along in society 
into apparent robustness of person and knowledge of the world. A hand- 
some girl, she would be a comely woman, good-natured, quick at repartee, 
confining her knowledge of books to popular novels, too natural and frank 
to be a flirt, an adept in all the nice slang current in fashionable life, caught 
up from collegians and brokers, accustomed to meet men in public lift-, in 
hotels, a very jolly companion, with a fund of good sense that made her en- 
tirely capable of managing her own affairs." 

And this is the second : — "There was still another young lady, modest in 


bearing, self-possessed in manner, sensible, who made ready and incisive re- 
marks, and seemed to have thought deeply on a large range of subjects, hut 
had a sort of downright practicability and cool independence, with all her 
femininity of bearing, that rather puzzled her interlocutor. It occurred to 
Mr. King to guess that Miss Selina Morton might be from Boston, which 
she was not, but it was with a sort of shock that he learned later that the 
young girl, moving about in society in the innocent panoply of girlhood, 
was a young doctor, who had no doubt looked through and through him 
with her keen eyes, studied him in the light of heredity, constitutional ten- 
dencies, habits and environment as a possible patient. It almost made him 
ill to think of it." 

We bring our weary search to a more than timely close with "A Little 
Journey in the World." We cannot read far without coming across keen sum- 
mings up of the American woman. " It seems to superficial observers," War- 
ner remarks, "that all Americans are born busy It is not so. They are born 
with a fear of not being busy, and if they are intelligent and in circum- 
stances of leisure they have such a sense of their responsiblity that they 
hasten to allot their time into portions, and leave no hour unprovided for. 
This is conscientiousness in woman, and not restlessness. There is a day 
for music, a day for painting, a day for the display of tea-gowns, a day for 
Dante, a day for the Greek drama, a day for the Dumb Animals' Aid Society, 
a day for the Society for the Propagation of Indians, and so on. When the 
year is over, the amount that has been accomplished by this incessant activ- 
ity can hardly be estimated. Individually, it may not be much. But con- 
sider where Chaucer would be but for the work of the Chaucer clubs, and 
what an effect upon the universal progress of things is produced by the as- 
sociate concentration upon the poet of so many minds." 

"There is nothing in which these American women are not interested," 
observes a foreigner, and we are all ready to echo his statement — "nothing 
about which they cannot talk, and talk intensely. They absorb everything, 
and have the gift of acquiring intelligence without, as one of them told me, 
having to waste time in reading. Yes, New York is an interesting city." 

But that which arrests our attention, and arouses our interest more than 
aught else, is the study of Margaret herself. Margaret, at the outset of her 
little journey in the world — with her sincerity and enthusiasm, her desire to 


feel the freedom of her own being, to be interested in everything in the world ; 
the Margaret who so puzzled the Englishman by an apparent absorption in the 
gayety of a German one day. and a whole-hearted devotion to her mission 
school and the condition of women the next. Margaret, in the gay vortex 
of New York society, restless in a life, fascinating, exciting and profoundly 
unsatisfactory, with its atmosphere of "knowing everything and not caring 
about anything very much." And Margaret, Hearing the end of the jour- 
ney, having learned the meannesses, the jealousies, the cringing by which 
social success is often attained, becoming in her gayety cynical, in her judg- 
ments bitter; losing her vitality in the feverish strain; with the nobler pos- 
sibilities of her higher life hopelessly crushed in the hardening process of a 
material existence — "a beautiful woman, in all the success of envied pros- 
perity, with a dead soul." 

A vigorous shake, and we are once again restored to our American con- 
sciousness. Perhaps, as American women, we still possess unaltered that 
feeling of self-satisfaction which is so markedly a part of the American 
spirit. There may be certain strange twinges of mortification — possibly 
a new sense of deep regret — be that as it may, we have made our quest for 
the truth, we have tried to know ourselves a little better. 

Alice Welch Kellogg, '94. 


(( r I "'HERE'S nothing quite so pritty as them cinnamon roses." Old Mrs. 
1 Pettiford stepped back from the rose bush and untangled her dress 
from the thorns; she drew her gray shawl closer ahout her shoulders and 
shivered a little. The morning breezes lifted the thin locks from above 
her temples and fluttered her scanty skirts; the breath of new-mown clover 
fields came sweeping down from the hillside. An old elm by the roadway 
cast its shadow quite over the garden and made it rather cool. Mrs. Petti- 
ford stepped into the sunshine. 

Click, click, over the little board side-walk came the sound of small boot- 
heels. There was a soft light in the old woman's eyes and it grew softer as 
she listened. She leaned farther over the gateway, and the roses in her fin- 


gers shook till they dropped their dew. A girl coming briskly up the street 
slackened her steps as she saw the old gray shawl. 

" Grandmother," said she ; her voice sounded sweet and strong. The light 
in the old woman's eyes grew still softer, and she stretched out her handful 
of cinnamon roses in her trembling, feeble hands. 

"I kind o' thought you'd like some o' my posies, Elizabeth," said she. 
The girl smiled. An amused little dimple crept into her cheek. The morn- 
ing sua lit her somewhat dull hair into unexpected brightness. The silky 
folds of her drab gown fell gracefully about her. She was a tall girl and 
enjoyed the tallness with the dignity it gave. 

" 1 should think so, grandmother," she said. The amused dimple had dis- 
appeared and the gray eyes were only tender. She leaned forward just a 
little, and the knotted fingers fastened the old-fashioned roses softly against 
her dress. The gray shawl fluttered against her shoulder and struck against 
her face. The old woman drew it carefully away. " Have a good time, 
dearie," said she. Elizabeth laid her cheek against the wrinkled one and 
one arm went quite about the little bent figure. The light in the old 
woman's eyes had grown very, very soft. She turned slowly, with the light 
still in them, and went weakly into the house. 

To Elizabeth the world was a glory as she hurried on ; the light in her 
eyes was a glad light; the softness had not yet come. She smiled cheerily 
at her neighbors, and nodded to passers-by ; she remembered to pick up her 
skirts before descending the hill ; yet all the while, in a happy little vein of 
her own, she was thinking quite to herself, and the deeds which she did out- 
wardly were purely mechanical ones. 

The cinnamon roses clung lovingly to her breast and bowed their heavy 
heads. Elizabeth looked clown at them. " Cinnamon roses," said she in 
her thoughts, " 1 wonder if the girls will laugh. Yet how beautiful she 
thinks them. Dear heart, could she ever grow old-fashioned to me?" 
Again the tenderness had chased the dimple quite away. 

Old Mrs. Pettiford opened the door softly and went into the kitchen. 
Rachel stood in the pantry, and Mrs. Pettiford was afraid of Rachel. "You 
haven't been giving them old-fashioned pink things to that child, mother!" 
said she. Mrs. Pettiford flushed guiltily. " Not that it much matters, after 
all. Elizabeth's no fool ; she's thrown 'em away by this time. Ketch her 


wearing sech things anywheres she wants to look well. I'm going to have 
that old bush dug out. I've been telling Ezra right along I wanted he 
should take his first spare minnits and root her up. It's big and homety, 
and nobody wants to see it blocking out all our view." Mrs. Pettiford grew 
quite pale. "Dig out my rose bush," breathed she. "My rose bush that yer 
Pa planted 'fore ever you or Marthy were born!" Rachel kneaded her 
bread energetical!}', and considered it no occasion for argument. The white 
puffs of dough fell neatly from her deft fingers into the bright tin. She 
lifted the pan and carried it to the oven. Mrs. Pettiford, looking timidly 
at her, crept silently away. Out in the long, cool entry one could hear her 
retreating footsteps. Then came the opening of a door. Old Mrs. Petti- 
ford had entered the sacred front parlor. 

The blinds were drawn down and a musty smell as of things long kept 
from light came sweeping up to meet her. The ghostly shroudings of the 
pictures and the stiff outlines of the hair-cloth furniture made the room 
look almost uncanny. Mrs.. Pettiford crossed the floor and fell feebly upon 
the sofa. She had closed the door behind her, so there was nothing to dis- 
close her hiding-place. Close up to her throat she clasped the worn old 
shawl and lay quite still. Quietly from under her lashes slipped one tear 
after another down the wrinkling of her cheeks. 

The short, strong, noontide shadows had lengthened for afternoon. The 
men had come home to dinner and gone back again to the fields. Rachel 
did not even wonder or stop to miss the absent face. " Marm often ran 
across to Martha's and stopped over there for the day." She washed and 
wiped her dishes, fed the chickens and sat down to her darning. The sun- 
light fell warm and yellow across the painted floor. Rachel sat by the win- 
dow. Towards night Ezra came across the garden towards the rose bush. 
He had a shovel over one shoulder and a spade in his left hand. Rachel 
was glad Marm was out of the way. 

"Ezra!" The voice broke sharply through the quiet of the kitchen and 
the hush of the afternoon. Ezra started and dropped his spade ; Rachel 
looked up from her basket. 

Elizabeth stood at the foot of the steps, holding her drab hat in her hands. 
In the accusing of her eyes was a world of comprehension. The curves of 
her face were hardened. She seemed changed into a woman. 


" I didn't go for to do it," said Ezra, "yer aunt told me ter." He stopped 
for sheer lack of ideas. "Put that earth back in its place," said Elizabeth. 
"Aunt Rachel, I am ashamed of you. Grandmother's cinnamon rose bush ! " 

Rachel looked humbled. Elizabeth's lack of respect was for once unno- 
ticed. She bent down over her darning and was silent. Elizabeth swept by 
her into the hall-way and ran up the stairs. Rachel could hear her calling 
as she went. She entered her grandmother's room and turned to the well- 
known window seat. There was no one there. She searched the chambers 
and the attic, then down again to the parlor. 

The chill of the room struck her as she crossed the threshold, and the in- 
stinct of love made her look at once to the sofa. Mrs. Pettiford was lying 
quietly, still wrapped in her shawl. Her cheeks were dry now, and their 
whiteness was almost startling against the black hair-cloth. Little wisps of 
hair had straj'ed down over her forehead and had been unbrushed away. 
She opened her eyes as Elizabeth came in, with a movement as if she were 
hurt. Her lips quivered. 

"Dear grandmother," said Elizabeth, " they shan't ever dig it up. Ezra 
shan't ever take it away " ; and there was no need of explanation, for her 
grandmother understood. She reached up and took one of the girl's pretty, 
daintily gloved hands and drew it softly under her cheek. Her eyes were 
fastened on the withered cinnamon roses. " You did wear them, dearie," 
said she. "You were not ashamed to wear them. Rachel said you would 
throw them away." 

Elizabeth bent her head and touched them with her lips. The light in 
the old woman's eyes had grown infinitely soft. 

Lillian B. Quinby. 


A summer's eve, a moonlit sky, 

A sea, soft water's purl, 
A tiny boat, and two spoon-oars, 

A pretty Wellesley girl. 

I watched her face, methought it glowed 

With trust and sweet content. 
I paused and resting both my oars 

On teud'rest theme was bent, 

When lo, she, grasping at those oars 

This scornful speech did throw — 
" I cannot stand it any more, 

Fll show you how to row! 

Like this — see there — you strike out so — 

Like that — 'tis new to you? 
' When did I learn? ' Oh, long ago, 

I'm on a Wellesly Crew ! " 

I sat iu silence meekly by, 

And swallowed all my pride, 
While ev'ry pretty, tender word 

Was straightway petrified. 

They ne'er were spoken, and I fear 

They ne'er may spoken be. 
But I can row the Wellesley stroke, 

So what is that to me? 

Alice Welch Kellogg, 94. 


AFTER an absence of several months, the chiel once more roams within 
the realms of the College Beautiful, and is delighted with the changes 
which meet his eye. Alma Mater has made some improvements during va- 
cation. She points with pride toward the fifth floor centre, on the south- 
ern side, where has arisen a well-appointed zoological laboratory, with com- 
fortable twirling chairs and with dissecting tables, to be used by the stu- 
dents in severalty. But the room is more especially fitted for holding class 
elections. Tracing one's course through the western trunk-room, and hail- 
ing the same elevator of ages past, though perhaps grown more squeaky and 
shaky, oue may descend to the third floor and then glide swiftly toward the 



senior parlor. Here may the last year's juniors rest their weary frames and 
ponder over what might have been, what is and what shall be. The chief 
charm of this apartment consists in the beautiful lake views from its win- 

Now Alma Mater leads you out of doors into the free air, over the grassy 
slopes. Here benold the monuments of physical development! The merry 
enthusiasts in the novel basket ball move back and forth across the campus. 
Wellesley's zeal for out-door sports has become fired. Even unwary profes- 
sors, betaking themselves to waiting classes, are detained by the pleasure of 
watching the game. The moments fleet away. The class still waits ; and 
finally, drawn by a force of attraction which (we are informed) two bodies 
have for one another when separated, it moves towards the windows of the 
recitation room, and likewise watches the game. 

The Wellesley Annex, on the outskirts of the ground, needs no comment 
from the chiel. It speaks for itself in words so plain that all who run may 
read, mid vice versa. 


All members of the Table who were within convenient speaking distance 
of the Opposite had turned in her direction and were listening expectantly. 
When thinking very intently she was accustomed to lean forward a little, 
open her lips slightly and look far off into space. This movement generally 
ripened into a remark; and whatever came from the Opposite was worth 
the speaking. The concentrated gaze of the Table called her to self-con- 
sciousness. She leaned back in her chair, closed her lips and momentarily 
retired behind a blush. The sophomore — the complacent sophomore — 
with a know-how-it-is-myself expression, magnanimously led her from be- 
hind the beautiful rose-colored screen by suggesting, "I believe you were 
about to sa} r something." Once more the Opposite raised her clear blue 
eyes, steady eyes, into which one looked long, and in looking felt rest. Her 
speech was as clear and steady as were her eyes; but more decided, much 
less dreamy. She spoke with a downward accent at the end of each pause, 
and her voice was full. To one not acquainted with her peaceful disposi- 
tion, she seemed to speak with a touch of pugnacity; but she was only very 
emphatic. " What I was thinking is, that I positively cannot endure those 
persons who find everything so very easy," she remarked. A look of pro- 


found approval on the part of the Table greeted her declaration. The 
Table generally agreed with the Opposite. She was an individual of discre- 
tion and common sense. The chiel, an invited guest of the company, was 
about to ask for illustrations of the persons in question, but just then he 
happened to notice that the Professor had folded her napkin, and was alter- 
nately sipping water and examining her spoon handle with the air of one 
who was expecting to continue operations indefinitely. He cast around the 
table a scattered glance of investigation, at the conclusion of which his meal 
tapered off suddenly, but so gracefully withal, that every one present 
thought he expressly desired to leave in his saucer exactly three trembling, 
tempting, delicious pieces of lemon jell}'. The pleasant company broke up, 
the Opposite and Professor marched off together, and the duel's intended 
request was never made. But of late he has been realizing the significance 
of the Opposite's remark. 

He has observed that persons who find everything very easy are ex- 
tremely annoying factors of college life. Perhaps their happy-go-lucky con- 
duct causes annoyance because it interferes with the pleasurable exercise of 
that uncharitable element of the human make-up which reaps consolation in 
the fact that, no matter how ill one may fare himself, there is always some 
one else who fares worse. But before proceeding to express himself 
further, the chiel asks the pardon of any one who accuses him of indulging 
in spiteful reflections. He considers, however, that what he has observed 
and experienced warrant him in supporting the Opposite's views. 

The girl who finds everything easy frequents Written Reviews with a 
pen which goes scratch, scratch, scratch over the surface of her paper at a 
tremendous speed; and, while her neighbors are nibbling their pencil points 
and wishing paradoxically both that the hour were over and that the bell 
would delay its ringing, she has already smilingly folded up her paper and 
scribbled her name thereon. While other students read hours and hours, in 
trying to find information which definitely covers the points of their history 
outline, the girl who finds everything easy spends just half an hour over the 
work, and then cheerfully proclaims that she has happened upon a book which 
covers the points exactly. The book? In the history alcove a few minutes 
ago. Where is it now? That is the question. Translations never take her 
longer than twenty minutes, and her literature papers seem to spring forth 


spontaneously. They are always done. The only employments which oc- 
cupy her any length of time are rowing, driving, dancing, chatting and sim- 
ilar efforts. She could be forgiven for her brilliancy if only she would re- 
frain from her oft-heard remark: "That's easy!" But she does not thus 
refrain, and so, in retaliation, the chiel invites all hard-working students, 
who are wicked enough to yield to the invitation, to take comfort in the 
thought that the girl who finds eveiything easy is not a solid, superior sort 
of student. Happiness and light-heartedness indeed are necessary for 
healthy life; but sympathy for others and from others is also essential ; and 
so may we ask the exasperatingly brilliant, cheerful persons who find every- 
thing so very easy, to suppress their exuberance of spirit for the sake of cul- 
tivating a fellow-feeling. 

But let them not be harshly judged. No doubt "That's easy" is merely 
another waj' of saying "I succeeded in doing that, and therefore it is not 
hard." Mary K. Isham. 



THE death of any distinguished person calls vividly to mind the work 
he lias done in the world, and so it was natural that when, a month 
ago, Mrs. Lucy Stone passed away, the story of her life should be retold from 
end to end of the country. Pulpit and press have joined in recounting the 
opposition she met, the obstacles she surmounted, and the change during 
her lifetime in the position of women, a change in the bringing to pass of 
which she had so large a share. As we think of what she had to face when 
she first gave utterance to the opinions which now are such mere matters of 
course, there comes to many of us, with a faint shock of surprise, a fuller 
realization of what the conditions of a woman's life were so short a time ago. 
During the last forty years how the horizon has widened for woman, what 
increased possibilities life has come to hold for her ! Step by step, she has 
come, she is still coming, into possession of herself, into the recognition of 
her own individuality, of her own separate work in the world. That the 
change is for the better is admitted even by those who do not sympathize 
with the hopes Mrs. Stone cherished for the political advancement of 
women; while many of us, especially among college women, realizing what 
our lives must have been had woman's former status remained unaltered, 
feel that we owe to her and her co-workers a debt which we can never 
repay, which we can never even adequately express 

But Lucy Stone has left behind her more than her work ; she has be- 
queathed us the example of her life and we may well ask what message it 
has for us. Not, I think, merely the lesson of what may be accomplished 
by courage and love and resolute adherence to purpose. These qualities 
she possessed in a high degree, but she might have had them all and yet 
have accomplished nothing. The secret of her success lay in her intense 
convictions. She believed absolutely in the righteousness of woman's cause 
and from her belief came her efforts and her success. And herein lay the 
chief difference between her and the men and women whose lives pass away 
and leave no trace behind them; it is conviction, not courage or resolution, 
that is wanting. Courage is not a rare virtue; there is an exhilaration in 
contest, and opposition, even when hardest to bear, brings with it a cer- 
tain inspiration. Most of us fail, not because we are too timid to enter the 


strife, but because we do not believe in anything strongly enough to fight 
for it. We live in an age of transition, when the old faiths are losing their 
hold upon us and the new have not appeared to nerve us to action. In the 
change and uncertainty of the period, in the breaking up of old habits of 
thought, the disappearance of old landmarks, the merging of old distinctions 
it is hard to gain clear and firm beliefs. It is far easier to drift with the 
tide, to talk philosphically of the Zeitgeist, and, admitting that we do not be- 
lieve, rest satisfied, without deciding even for ourselves what it is we do not 
credit, and why. It is easy, but from such drifting comes no fruition of 
high thought or noble act. It does not greatly matter what our belief is; 
every variety of faith, firmly held, has produced grand and harmonious lives. 
The essential thing is to believe something, to know what it is and why we 
believe it. Once given an earnest conviction it is easy to work for its accom- 
plishment. And such a conviction is possible for every one. The cause for 
the prevailing vagueness of belief lies far more in our weakness than in the 
character of the age. To find out what we can believe and what we must 
reject requires for most of us a mental effort, strenuous and persistent. Still 
more, it means a definite cutting loose from beliefs once dear, from faiths 
once sacred to us, for if we are to believe clearly we must first of all know 
what we disbelieve, and much which we once held as absolute truth we must 
regretfully lay aside as something tender and beautiful, but for us, at least, 
no longer true. 

From this twofold sacrifice we shrink, preferring to consider that noth- 
ing is altogether true and nothing entirely false, that there is no good quite 
worth working for and no evil really deserving of opposition, and our lives be- 
come mere bits of driftwood on the stream of circumstance because we will not 
make them anything more. For there is for each one of us something which 
we may believe if we will, and this conviction — a conviction which under- 
lies all worthy action, which is, indeed, the only motive for action — is the 
only thing in life of real importance. If we meet with opposition, misunder- 
standing, misrepresentation, they are but trifles; the outer world is easily 
faced if we can but master ourselves. And even though our efforts bear no 
fruit that we can see, though to all appearance our lives have been spent in 
a vain struggle, } r et will they not be wholly lost, for we shall have escaped 
the only utter failure possible to humanity — the failure of him who has 
never been defeated because he has never striven. 



THERE are marked indications of the growth of a scientific spirit among 
the students of our college. The large classes electing botany, zool- 
ogy, chemistry, physics, experimental psychology and applied mathematics 
are forcible witnesses to the tastes of the average student in these direc- 
tions. Better far than numbers, however, is the euthusiasm manifested. 
Who, without sincere love of original investigation, would cheerfully devote 
hours to ascertain comparative pressures of tiny bottles filled with shot? 
Who, without real interest in nature's plans, would patiently master the 
ph3'llotaxy of cones? Who, without a genuine delight in animal life, would 
fill her room with spiders, lizards, moths, and make careful note of every de- 
velopment? Wellesley maidens, armed with curious nets, haunt hill and 
dale, lake and stream. They scour the woods, they scrutinize the ground. 
Even freshmen catch their caddis flies, and quite eclipse their elders in accu- 
rate delineation of twig sections. 


WHEN asked, "And what does Wellesley afford in the way of athlete 
ics?" we need no longer hesitate in confusion as we answer " Boat- 
crews and — and so forth." We now speak emphatically and proudly of 
our crews and their increasing strength and might. But these are not 
alone in their glory. We can add walking, and bicycle clubs, and tennis 
associations, and scientifically conducted games. The latter proclaim that 
the tireless and zealous spirit who has established golf and basket ball on 
our campus has not been daunted by the cramped quarters of the gymna- 
sium, but has seized the wider opportunities afforded by our wealth of 
ground. This has been a happy move. Out of doors, indeed, we are as- 
sured of plentv of room ; for if the campus fails to contain us there are, 
over b} r the west lodge, vast, unworked fields which, owing to their even- 
ness and secluded situation can be utilized to great advantage for sports. 
Of the crowded condition indoors we ought not, however, to complain ; be- 
cause it may partly be accounted for by the interest which the upper class 
girls, those for whom the gymnastic work is optional, take in their physical 

It is a pleasure to witness with what pride and good nature the girls dis- 
play the bruises and sprains and scratches which naturally accompany first 


attempts in basket ball. Surely these knocks and bufferings are received in 
a good cause. Girls! we know not what we do when we refuse to place our 
names upon the lists of those praiseworthy individuals who canvass the build- 
ings for personal, bodily subscriptions to their open-air entertainments. Let 
every girl deliberate long and wisely before she rejects the benefits of fresh 
air, healthy exercise, social intercourse and an incalculable amount of genuine 
fun. We all pray that athletics may live long and abundantly prosper. And 
when athletics is strengthening our lungs, and heightening the color of our 
cheeks and brightening our eyes, let us stop for an instant, and join with the 
Wellesley Magazine in three long hearty cheers for Miss Hill and physi- 
cal training ! 

£0e Sree (press. 

We people of this Wellesley world may be over-conscientious in certain respects, 
but we can hardly be said to thus err in the little matter of committees and 
quorums. We may peacefully rest on the assurance that, however much alive 
to the hoarding of our precious individual time, we can never be accused of 
experiencing any extraordinary anxiety regarding the golden moments of our 
fellow-sufferers. It is forty minutes after the appointed hour, when we present 
ourselves unabashed at a rehearsal, which is thereby so prolonged as to compel 
seven girls to cut chapel on the morrow. (No mention shall be made of their 
rash expenditure of a patience which will therefore be found wanting, when 
needed for more worthy objects.) We habitually absent ourselves from class 
meetings even when we know that a large quorum is essential. We thus gain an 
hour for academic work, and sixty girls lose the best part of several evenings, 
before beginning the accomplishment of necessary elections. If chairman of 
some committee, we bring ill-digested plans before the helpless creatures, whose 
time, unprotected by the law is wholly at our tyrannical disposal. We playfully 
idle with the subject on hand, delivering ourselves meanwhile of a variety of 
personal remarks, whose bearings on the particular question under considera 
tion would fail to be brought out by a high power microscope. Then lo ! to our 
mild surprise, we discover that fleet-footed Time has not paused for our own 
convenience. Each member of the weary and famished committee is half an 
hour late to dinner, and our future corps of laborers is forever after a trifle less 
cheerful and enthusiastic, unless more conspicuously noble than average mortals 


Verily, whatever our faults, and we frankly acknowledge that we are not quite 
perfection, we never have shown indications of nervous prostration due to anxiety 
for the protection of our neighbors' time. K., '94. 


The students of Wellesley College have long been accustomed to regard the 
library as one of the chief glories of the institution, and to many of us it has be- 
come endeared by several years of association, and by the memory of hard battles 
fought and won within its walls. To these, and to others, not at all affected by 
sentimental considerations, but who regard the library as a convenient, and, in- 
deed, the only, place for study in the Main Building, the condition of the room this 
year has been a source of great annoyance. Not long ago I repaired to this 
place of wisdom for a quiet wrestle with the philosophy of Carlyle. Soon, how- 
ever, was borne in upon me not " the noise of rushing waters," but the tramp 
of many feet. There must be something peculiar about the ordinary Wellesley 
walking shoe, it never was very fairy-like, but surely the unprecedented interest 
in athletics must have had the effect of increasing the strength of the shoes, as 
well as of the wearers. Are the Wellesley girls shod with iron now-a-days, or why 
do they come down upon their heels with increasing emphasis and decision, espe- 
cially in the library where a general carefulness in movement is supposed to be 
in order? Indeed, after listening to the tramping through alcoves and in and out 
among tables for an hour, one is ready to wish that our library were modelled on 
the plan of a Moslem mosque, where the students should put their shoes from off 
their feet before entering ! 

At last, however, some few of these sure-footed damsels seemed to settle 
down in peace, and I returned to Carlyle, but for a moment only ! What was 
that buzzing? Only the sound of many voices ! The library is such an excellent 
place to discuss all your affairs with your best friend ! I retired to an alcove 
only to find it occupied by five juniors, who seemed to be holding an impromptu 
class meeting. Above me, in the gallery, some kind-hearted soul was reading 
aloud in a distinctly perceptible monotone. In despair, I looked toward the door, 
and saw a vision of hope looming up in the vicinity — a member of the faculty ! 
Surely, her calm presence will have a perceptible quieting effect upon the multi- 
tude. With firm and emphatic step she advanced to our librarian's desk (for 
we really have one!), but the conversation did not cease, there was added there- 
unto an increment which was the despair of every quiet-loving student in the 


I waited to see what would happen next, for the scene was more fascinating 
than even Carlyle. Soon my meditations were interrupted by a rapid breathing 
into my left ear, and my chair began to tip backward in a most alarming man- 
ner. In terror I looked over my shoulder, only to see a harmless student, who 
was examining the titles of the row of books on the table in front of me, and 
who was simply using my chair to support her weary frame as she did so. Even 
as I looked, she passed along on the backs of the other chairs, leaving me to study 
in peace, when bang I — what was that? A book had descended upon mv note- 
book, apparently from the ceiling, and shook the whole table as it did so. There 
is no cause for surprise in the mind of the casual observer, that is only a little 
way we have here at Wellesley of returning books — no book to be returned ex- 
cept as it is tossed at a distance of from two to four feet. The student is thus 
trained in accuracy of aim, and is also enabled to proceed some yards on her 
way rejoicing before the book lands. Next, my attention was called to the dic- 
tionary fiend. I do not know whether the species is peculiar to the Wellesley 
library or not, but do most devoutly hope that it is ! This year the fiend seems 
to be oftener a freshman than anything else. She possesses herself of a large 
dictionary, seats herself beside you, and begins a vigorous shuffling of leaves and 
banging of covers, interspersed with little grunts indicative of satisfaction (or 
otherwise) and shows a zeal in well doing which is truly beautiful to see and 
hear. Just then the bell rang and my study of Carlyle was finished. 

E. F. P., '94. 


Although the idea of compulsion in regard to religious matters is so unpleas- 
ant to us all, do we not exaggerate the evils, if we may so call them, of our pres- 
ent chapel system? It seems to an observer, that the excuse system, used here 
at Wellesley, is a happv compromise between the extreme radicalism of doing 
away altogether with a required chapel attendance, and the extreme conservatism 
which brooks no disregard of arbitrary law. To an extent, therefore, our chapel 
service is now voluntary. If any excuse presented by a student is accepted by 
the authorities, then it rests with the honor and womanliness of each student to 
regulate her own attendance. She may, or may not, as she chooses, allow 
trivial matters to interfere in this regard. Of course, to those who wish to cease 
attendance upon this service, the system offers no advantages, but are the large 
majority of Wellesley girls of this class? Most of those who object to the pres- 
ent regime, would probably attend chapel nearly as often as now under an 


entirely voluntary system. If, then, we are thus allowed to regulate our atten- 
dance, should we denounce the system as one of " compulsory chapel"? Let us 
not growl, merely for the sake of growling. E. N. K., '94. 


Miss Calkins calls the attention of those who are interested in the subjects of 
" Colored Hearing" and of " Forms " to reprints from the summary of results of 
the Wellesley "Census," which may be found in Alcove 3 of the library and in 
the psychological laboratory. 

Q5ooft (ReDtezos. 

The White Islander. By Mary Hartwell Catherwood, author of "The 
Romance of Dollard," etc., illustrated by Francis Day and Henry Sandham. 
1 2 mo, 164 pages, cloth, $1.25. 

" The White Islander," a ronvmce of the Indian massacre at Mackinac, was orig- 
inally published in "The Century." The story gains much, however, by being 
read in book form, for, with the exception of the brilliant situation in the last 
chapter there is not enough of surprise or of action to carry the interest forward. 
The heroine, Marie, is a young French girl, who has from childhood formed a 
part of the family of the Indian Chief of Macki-nac, her only acquaintance having 
been the Chief Woinatom, a half-witted English boy, the Indian grandmother 
and the French priest. The keynote of the character is given in the priest's 
words: " There are women who have a vocation for loving as plain as others 
have for the holy life." The chief interest of the story lies in the portrayal of 
Marie's development from girl to woman under the influence of this master pas- 
sion, and of Womatom's inner struggles between honor and native treachery. The 
wily character of the chief is very subtly portrayed. Mrs. Catherwood's work 
has received the stamp of approval of Francis Parkman, the historian, as to its 
historical accuracy. 

To Gypsyland. By Elizabeth Robins Pennell, author of " Play in Provence," 
^'Our Sentimental Journey," etc., illustrated by Jas. Pennell. i2mo, 240 
pages, cloth, $1.50. 

A delightful book for these hazy Indian-summer days is Elizabeth Robins 
Pennell's " To Gypsy Land." The author is a niece of Charles G. Leland of 
Philadelphia, who has made gypsies and gypsy-lore the study of his life. Mrs. 
Pennell imbibed the love for the Romany people from her uncle, and while a young 
girl, living in Philadelphia, she began her search in quest of the genial gypsy. The 



book is, in the main, an account of the travels of Mr. and Mrs. Pennell through 
Hungary, but no portion is quite as romantically interesting as the first chapters 
in which the anthor describes her gypsy friends of the City of Brotherly Love. 
The plaintive, impassioned music of the Romany Czardas is in the words, moving 
now to laughter, now to tears. A part of " To Gypsyland" was published in 
"The Century," the new matter includes thirty illustrations by Mr. Pennell. 

Classic Myths in English Literature. Edited by Charles Mill Gavley, 
Professor of the English language and literature in the University of California. 
Published by Ginn & Company. 

This book is edited as an aid to the study of English literature, its aim being to 
make familiar the commonplaces of literary allusion, reference and tradition, and 
thus to open up the imaginative reaches of our finest English poetry to its readers. 
The work is based upon Bulfinch's "Age of Fable," but all myths have been 
omitted save those which have " actually acclimated themselves in English-speak- 
ing lands, and have influenced the spirit, form and habit of English imaginative 
thought." The portions retained have been re-arranged and revised and Prof. 
Gayley has added several chapters on the origin, elements, preservation and dis- 
tribution of myth. The Greek myths of the creation, the attributes of Greek 
divinities, the houses concerned in the Trojan War and old Norse and German 
heroes. A distinctive feature of the book is a commentary which contains not 
only explanations of textual difficulties, and the various interpretations of the 
myths under discussion, but also references to poems and masterpieces of ancient 
and modern sculpture and painting which illustrate them. 

The Cliff-dwellers. By Henry B. Fuller. Mr. Fuller, who is known to 
the public through the Chevalier de Pensieri Vani and Chatelaine de la Trinite, 
has written a novel about Chicago. The " Cliff-dwellers " are business men 
who spend their days in the high down-town buildings constituting the city's 
" mountain scenery," and it is a suggestive fact that the interest of the story 
centres in business life and business men rather than in social circles. If we grant 
the people of the book to be typical Chicago characters, their lack of tone and 
finish justify all the jeers it has been customary to hurl at the society of the 
Windy City. Not a ray of sweetness and light penetrates the dismal atmosphere 
in which the Cliff-dwellers grub for money, and the few glimmering aspirations 
of the hero from Boston only suffice to disclose the utter commonplaceness of 
the scene. 

A few phrases impress the reader. The large business firm which " has its 
brains in Boston and its stomach in Chicago " stays on the mind, and the asser- 


tion that in this latter city " the predominance of the prominent citizen makes 
superfluous the existence of the eminent citizen " may have a grain of truth as well 
as of picturesqueness. Cornelia Mac Nabb, who "will show pa and ma all the 
sights, or her name's Mac Mudd " is as breezy and enterprising as Chicago her- 
self, but the other women share her slang and bad manners without displaying 
her characteristic dash and real ability. Cecilia Ingalls, who like Cecilia de 
Noel, is quoted by everybody for chapters without appearing on the scene, is 
rather inadequate, and the charge that it is for such women that houses like the 
Clifton are built and men like the Cliff-dwellers struggle and perish, impresses 
one as flimsy and insincere. The flinty old banker, whose family is the first on 
which the story hangs, is not likely to coin millions for anything, so nearly 
altruistic as a beautiful wife — his own entertainment and the instinct for accu- 
mulation are his sole incentives. 

The carelessness, the daring and the rush of Chicago life are well reflected, and 
if the book were written by an outsider, one would say his glance had been quick 
and true, although superficial. The force, the character and the cosmopolitan- 
ism of the place do not appear and their neglect can hardly fail to brand the 
author as another " prophet not without honor save in his own country." Mr. 
Fuller paints the bigness of Chicago and perhaps that is enough to do in one 
novel, but he has left aside her greatness. He has pictured her money-getting 
but has not touched her money-giving. The Clifton maybe the biggest business 
house in the city, it can not be the soundest. The Cliff-dwellers might 
achieve the packing-house, or possibly the auditorium, they could never even con- 
ceive the White City. 

Books Received. 

Livre de Lecture et de Conversation, by C. Fontaine, Director of French in- 
struction in the High Schools of Washington, D. C. D. C. Heath & Co., 

La Prise de la Bastille, by J. Michelet. Edited and annotated by Jules Lug- 
niens, Professor of Modern Languages in Yale University. Ginn & Co., 

Popular Science. A French reader, edited and annotated by Jules Lugniens, 
Ph. D. Ginn & Co., publishers. 

The Seventh Book of Virgil's yEneid. Edited by Wm. C. Collar, Head-master 
of the Roxbury Latin School. Ginn & Co., publishers. 


<Bxc flanges. 

Athletics occupy a large space in the October magazines. Wellesley is not 
alone in her appreciation of out-door sports. 

The " Williams Literary Monthly " opens its centennial number with a very in- 
teresting description of the college in 1856, given by Washington Gladden, "one 
who belonged in a remote antiquity to the fraternity of college editors." He de- 
scribes Williamstown, the college buildings, faculty and academic courses, as 
well as societies, college papers and athletics of that day. 

The "Bowdoin Orient" of Oct. iS gives a number of proposed college yells. 
None of them seem exactly satisfactory. 

The "Inlander "is one of the best of the literary magazines. "Waiting at 
Creed's Crossing," a story in last month's issue, is both pathetic and full of that 
truth to nature which touches all humanity. 

The " Trinty Tablet " appears upon our table in a new form. As it indicates in 
its editorial, it has " doffed its fancy garments and settled down as a plain mem- 
ber of the working world." It contains some very good verse, the best being 
translations from the French and German. 

The October number of the "Mount Holyoke " devotes itself quite largely to 
verse. The Kodak is unusually good. 

The " Unit" speaks quite strongly in favor of the cap and gown. 

The " Wesleyan Literary Monthly" is almost entirely given over to fiction. Al- 
though the first number of this magazine was issued in June, 1892, yet it has 
been decided to begin the volumes uniformly with the October issue. 

The verse of the " Dartmouth Literary Monthly" is of a higher order than that 
of most of the magazines. Its fiction is almost always pure and interesting. 

The October number of the " College Student" contains a very scholarly arti- 
cle, " On Reading," by Prof. J. B. Kieffer, Ph. D. 

We quote from the " University Beacon" : "A tract of one hundred and sixty 
acres of land in Natick has been sold to a syndicate which intends to build a col- 
lege for women similar to Wellesley." Truly, if we trust the Beacon, we go far 
away to learn home news. 

The department," Brown Verse," in the "Brunonian" has an especial charm for 
the reader of college literature. The verse for last month was quite varied in 


The " Cornell Magazine " begins, with its October number, the sixth year of its 
existence. It reprints such articles of its constitution as are of public interest. 
The number is an especially attractive one. It devotes eight pages to an article 
on "Aquatics," which, however, is more interesting to Cornell students than to 
outside readers. 

The "Lafayette" announces with great rejoicing that the final adoption of the 
cap and gown has at last been made. It remarks later that "the class of '86 in- 
troduced caps and gowns, but they were so unmercifully guyed by townspeople 
that they disposed of them." 

The October issue of the "Yale Literary Magazine" contains the Deforest 
prize oration, "Joseph Ernest Renan," by Winthrop Edwards Dwight of New 
Haven. It also has a very interesting paper on "Literary Criticism in College 
Writing," the truth of which cannot fail to strike home to every college student. 
Do we often write as we talk ? Does not " exceeding solemnity " characterize the 
typical college essay? 

The "Columbia Spectator," Oct. 9, rejoices in the acquisition by Columbia 
College of Prof. George R. Carpenter, who will fill the place left vacant by Prof. 
John D. Quackenboss. The face of Prof. Carpenter, as it looks forth from the 
pages of the " Spectator," seems very familiar to a Wellesley student. 

The verse for the preceding month is both plentiful and of unusual quality. 
The " Vassar Miscellany " has perhaps the best. Nearly all the poetry wears the 
fall coloring, and it is noticeable that the subjects most often favored are 
"Autumn " and "October." We quote the following : 

Over the hills at the clsoe of day, 

Gazing with listless-seeming eyes, 
Margery watches them sail away, 

The sunlit clouds of the western skies. 

Margery sighs with vague regret, 

As slowly they fade from gold to gray, 
Till night has come, and the sun has set, 

And the clouds have drifted beyond the day. 

What are you dreaming, my little maid ? 

For yours are beautiful thoughts, I know; 
What were the words that the wild wind said, 

And where, in the dark, did the cloud-ships go ? 


Come through the window and touch her hair, 

Wind of the vast and starry deep! 
And tell her not of this old world's care, 

But kiss her softly, and let her sleep. 

— Herbert Midler Hopkins, in " Columbia Literary Monthly." 

(After Aldrich) 
I know a broken woodland, 

That melts into a meadow, 
All filled with slender reed-grass, 

Where, searching high and low, 
You'll find the blue-eyed gentians, 
The shy, fringe-lidded gentians, 
September's own blue gentians, 

That in the marshes grow. 

There purple astors tremble, 
The golden-rod, sweet miser, 
Is hoarding his last treasures, 

And loath to let them go. 
And there between the showers, 
Uplifting doubtful faces, 
You'll find the first blue gentians, 

That in the marshes grow. 

Vassar Miscellany. 

When morning breaks what fortune waits for me ? 
What ships shall rise from out the misty sea ? 

What friends shall clasp my hand in fond farewell ? 

What dream-wrought castles, as night's clouds dispel, 
Shall raise their sun-kissed towers upon the lea ? 

To-night, the moon-queen shining wide and free, 
To-night the sighing breeze, the song, and thee ; 
But time is brief. What cometh, who can tell, 
When morning breaks ? 

To-night, to-night, then happy let us be! 
To-night, to-night, life's shadowy cares shall flee! 
And though the dawn come in with chime or knell, 
When night recalls its last bright sentinel 
I shall, at least, have memories left to me, 
When morning breaks. 

— Edward A. Raleigh, " Cornell Magazine." 


Coffege (Tlofes. 

The out-door athletics are now in full swing. Each freshman is required to 
choose and engage in some particular sport Tennis, basket-ball, base-ball, golf, 
and scientific pedestrianism, have all enthusiastic Adherents. Basket-ball seems 
to be the favorite and every afternoon the campus is taken possession of by 
eighteen shouting and excited players. Not only the freshman, but all of the 
upper classes have gotten up basket-ball teams. We now rival our brothers in 
the way of black eyes and injured limbs. 

Ninety-four has completely reorganized its class-crew. The members of the new 
crew are : Marion Canfield, captain ; Grace Edwards, Effie MacMillan, Helen Mac* 
Millan, Edna Pressey, Mabel Dodge, Laura Mattoon, Theodora Skidmore, 
Helen Stahr, Alice Wood, Eleanor Chace, Artemesia Stone, Isabelle Campbell 
and Mabel Learoyd. 

On Saturday evening, October 14, the senior, junior and sophomore classes 
held their annual elections. The following is the result of this and subsequent 
meetings: Officers of '94: Vice-president, Helen Foss; recording secretary, 
Ruby Bridgman ; corresponding secretary, Marion Anderson; treasurer, 
Isabelle Campbell; first historian, Mary Clemmer Tracy; second historian, 
Louise Boswell ; factotums, Harriet Friday and Mabel Learoyd; executive 
committee, A. Theodora Skidmore, Roxana Vivian, Eleanore N. Kellogg. 
Officers of '96: President, Jor.nna Parker; vice-president, Martha H. Shack- 
ford ; recording secretary, Helen F. Cooke; corresponding secretary, Julia H. 
Lyman; treasurer, Cora E. Stoddard; historians, S. Virginia Sherwood and 
Sarah Hadley ; factotums, Mattie A. Bullis and Amy F. Boutelle ; executive 
committee, Sarah L. Swett, Clara L. Willis, Clara Keene. Officers of '95: 
President, Helen Kelsey ; vice-president, Grace D. Sweetzer; recording sec- 
retary, Louise Warren ; corresponding Secretary, Mary Field; treasurer, Edith 
La Rue Jones; historians, Sarah Weed and Martha Waterman; factotums, 
Helen Blakeslee and Sybil Boynton ; executive committee, Louise McNair and 
Gertrude Jones. 

Miss Sherwood is to live in Boston this winter, coming out to Wellesley three days 
in the week. Her Boston address is No. 1 1 Irvington Street. 

Miss Tuttle has been at the college several times for a few days* visit. 


The class of '95 had a social on Monday afternoon, October 16. The Sopho- 
more history was given. 

On Monday afterroon, October 23, the first "afternoon tea" was given by 
nine members of the junior class in College Hall. A number of outside guests 
were invited and the affair was very successful. 

Dr. Shafer spent about two weeks in Chicago during October. On her way 
she attended the centennial anniversay of Williams College. 

On Saturday evening, Oct. 2r, Mrs. Stebbins, the head of the Delsarte School 
in American, spoke in the chapel. Mrs. Stebbins illustrated and explained the 
Delsarte methods, and compared them with the Swedish system. 

The Tennis Association has been temporarily dissolved. 

Miss Vivian, '94, and Miss Boarman, '97, had a runaway accident. The wagon 
was smashed ; Miss Vivian escaped unhurt, but Miss Boarman sustained some 

'96 had their first class-history on Monday afternoon, Oct. 23. A minstrel 
show was the feature of the entertainment. 

The Beethoven Club of Boston gave a concert in the chapel on Monday even- 
ing, October 23. In spite of the rain, the chapel was crowded with an audience 
full of enthusiasm for the old favorites. 

Miss Emily Porter, '94, has been obliged to leave college on account of ill- 

Mr. William Clarke of the London Chronicle gave a series of three lectures 
at Wellesley. The first lecture, Monday, October 16, was on the Development 
of Socialism in England. Mr. Clarke stated that socialism originated in England, 
the home of machine manufacture, and not in France or Germany. He then gave 
a sketch of the various socialistic movements up to the present time. The second 
lecture, October 25, was on the Government of London, particularly the London 
County Council and the aims of its progressive socialist majority. The third 
lecture, October 30, was on the London Working Classes. After the lecture the 
members of the Agora were invited to meet Mr. Clarke in the faculty parlor. 
Mr. Clarke is a member of the Fabian Society of England and was sent by 
that society as a delegate to the Labor Congress in Chicago. He has been giving 
lectures in Boston at the Wells Memorial and at Perkins Hall. 

Miss Harriet Blake gave a tea on Monday, Nov. 6, to the new members of the 
Shakespeare Society. 


Many Wellesley people went in to the meeting to describe the work and outlook 
of the College Settlements Association which was held at Chickering Hall, 
Boston, on October 30. Extremely interesting and encouraging reports from 
each settlement were given, and Miss Scudder spoke eloquently of the future of 
the college settlement movement. 

Hallowe'en was celebrated by each of the college buildings in its own way. 
College Hall had the usual fancy dress supper, and it was particularly good this 
year, although a few of the tables did not dress. At Stone Hall some of the 
seniors gave a farce which was followed by a sheet and pillow-case party, and 
dance in the parlor. Those who did not dance roasted apples and chestnuts and 
marshmallows before the fire; the Eliot had a candy-scrape ; Novumbega had 
a sheet and pillow-case party; Howells' farce "The Sleeping Car" was given 
at Simpson ; Freeman had a fancy dress ball, and Wood had a Hallowe'en party, 
with the especial attraction of outside guests. 

On Monday evening, November 6, Mr. J. Wallace Goodrich gave an organ 
recital in the chapel. 

On Saturday evening, November 4, the seniors and the members of the class 
in American literature were invited to meet Mrs. ex-Governor Claflin in the 
faculty parlor. Mrs. Claflin read extracts from her recently published book, 
" Reminiscences of Whittier." Mrs. Claflin was for many years the personal 
friend of the poet, and she made his personality seem very real to her audience. 

Dr. Pauline Root of India spoke at the November missionary meeting; she 
gave a brief but extremely interesting account of her work as a medical mission- 
ary among the women of Southern India. 

Miss Scudder addressed the Wellesley Chapter of the College Settlements As- 
sociation on November 3. She told of her experiences while in residence at 
Denison House, and of the practical and theoretical aspects of the Settlement 
work at present. 

The residents of Denison House are anxious that every Saturday afternoon 
some of the Wellesley girls should go in to assist them in amusing the children 
who come to the settlement to play. Any one who cares to go may make ar- 
rangements with Miss Helen Kelsey. 

Among the visitors at college during the past month have been Mrs. Adaline 
Emerson Thompson, 'So ; Grace Underwood and Martha McCaulley, '92 ; Carrie 


Hardwick, Alice Campbell, Betty Keith, Agnes Damon, Florence Monroe and 
Fan Sanderson, '93 ; Katherine Lord, Mabel Mason, '95 ; Dawn Fernald, '96. 

Fraulein Beinhorn of Brunswick, Germany, is to assist the German depart- 
ment as instructor. 

Professor Niles took the class in geology on an excursion to Newton Upper 
Falls on Monday, November 6. 

Plans are out for the new athletic field. It is to be 100 yards long and to 
afford accommodation for l'unning, jumping, base-ball, cricket, golf and foot- 
ball. The site chosen is between Stone Hall and the lake and work is to be 
begun on it this fall. The class of '97, with the energy of youth, have under- 
taken to raise $1,250 for this purpose, before Christmas. 

A mass meeting was held in the gymnasium on Wednesday evening, Nov. 15, 
to celebrate the results of the recent elections. Miss Laughlin, as president of 
the Agora, presided. After the singing of some patriotic songs, Miss Laughlin 
introduced the discussion by saying that the meeting was to celebrate the triumph 
of no party, but the triumph of purity and justice, in the defeat of Judge Maynard 
and the Tammany Ring in New York, and of the New Jersey legislature which 
licensed race-track gambling; in the triumph of Illinois over Anarchy; in the 
legalization of woman's suffrage by Colorado. In response to Miss Laughlin's 
call for general remarks, Miss Buffington rose to proclaim her joy as a patriotic 
Democrat at the defeat of Tammany. Miss Peterson spoke of the recent victo- 
ries as a triumph over indifference. Miss Kellogg spoke on the suffrage vote in 
Colorado, what it meant for the past and for the future. Miss Young told how 
all party lines had vanished in New Jersey before the desire to defeatthe "Race- 
track Legislature." A song was sung which was composed especially for this 
occasion, and the Simpson girls enlivened the meeting with frequent yells. 

On the evening of Nov. 15, an enthusiastic mass meeting was held in the 
Gymnasium, to celebrate the recent elections in New York, New Jersey, Illinois 
and Colorado. Gail Laughlin, Julia Buffington, Anna Peterson, Alice Kellogg, 
'94, and Elva Young, '96, were the speakers. The national songs were given, 
under the leadership of Helen Foss and the Glee Club. 

Pipes are being laid to put water from the village water-works into College 
Hall. This will give a greater supply of water on the fourth floor, and also 
give an increased pressure in case of fire. 


Mr. Horace Scudder spoke in the chapel on Monday evening, Nov. 13, on the 
Educational Law of Reading and Writing. Mr. Scudder showed that the sub- 
stitution of truly great literature for our school readers would, at that age when 
the imagination and the imitative power are most active, greatly widen the spirit- 
ual and mental life of the child and of the man. 

Miss Wilson invited the class of '95 to hold their class social at her home in 
South Natick on Saturday evening, Nov. 11. Hostess and guests alike had a 
royally good time. 

Prince Wolkonsky, Russian Imperial Commissioner to the World's Fair, 
visited Wellesley on Friday, Nov. 10, in company with Mrs. Palmer. The 
prince addressed the students in the chapel on the Higher Education for Women 
in Russia. After the lecture, he was greeted by the girls with the usual cheers, 
and went to Norumbega for dinner. 



S. Virginia Sherwood. 
Elizabeth Bartholomew. 
Sarah Ellen Capps. 

Adeline Lois Bonney. 

Jloctefg (ttofes. 

On Saturday evening, October 28, the Shakespeare Society accepted the 
kind invitation of its alumna? members, Misses Conant, Bigelow and Hall of '84, 
to hold its regular meeting at their Home School in Natick. The following new 
members were formally received : Mary Mudgett, '96 ; Carlotta Swett, '96 ; Cor- 
nelia Park, '96, and Ada Belfield, '96. The regular programme was given and 
was as follows: — 

Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
I. Shakespeare News ...... 

II. Foreshadowings in the " Two Gentlemen of 
Verona" of later and greater drama . 

III. Talk. Launce and Speed Typical of Shake- 

speare's Wit ...... 

IV. Dramatic Representation — " Two Gentlemen of 
Verona." Act II. Scene III. 

V. The Character Quadrangle in " Two Gentlemen 
of Verona "....... 

VI. Dramatic Representation — " Two Gentlemen of 

Verona." Act. V. Scene IV. 
VII. Lyric Tendency of the Play .... Jean Evans. 

After the adjournment delightful refreshments were served and an informal 
social time was enjoyed. The Society then bade its hostesses farewell and drove 
off cheering for Shakespeare, Wellesley and Eighty-four. 

The first programme meeting of Zeta Alpha was held on the evening of Octo- 
ber 6. 

Subject for the Semester : — 

Studies of Cotemporary American Life. 


The Social American. 
I. Types of American Homes 
II. Fads and Fashions ..... 
Illustrative Costumes: 


" 1803 " 


" Dress Reform "... 

Anna H. Blauvelt. 
Clara L. Willis. 

Marion Canfield. 
Adelaide V. Schoonover. 
Agnes L. Caldwell. 
Helen N. Blakeslee. 


III. Song . . • Elizabeth M. Wood. 

IV. Studies: 

a. The American Boy .... Kate W. Nelson. 

b. The American Girl . . . Grace L. Addeman. 

V. The Social American, drawn by Howells, James 

and Warner ...... Alice W. Kellogg. 

At the regular meeting of Zeta Alpha, held October 28, the following pro- 
gramme was presented : 

Studies of Cotemporary American Life. 
The Business American. 
I. Alliances Offensive and Defensive . . . Alethea Ledyard. 

II. The Uncrowned Kings of America . . . Helen Dennis. 

III. Music Adelaide V. Schoonover. 

IV. Ranching in the West ..... Marion Canfield. 

V. Mexican Song . Duet by Kate W . Nelson and Elizabeth M. Wood. 

VI. Woman in Business ..... Elizabeth H. Peale. 
Miriam Wickwire Newcomb, '94, Edith La Rue Jones, '95, and M. Denison 

Wilt, '97, were initiated into the society's membership. 

The Art Society met in the Art Gallery, Oct. 13. Lucy E. Willcox was 
formally received into the society. Prof. Denio then read a paper, introductory 
to the work of the semester on "Native and Foreign Artists in France to the Close 
of the Sixteenth Century." After the report of " Art News " by Caroline King, 
the following tableaux were presented : — 

I. Court of Ladies of Queen Anne of Brittany . Waller I. Bullock. 

II. Charlotte of Sevoy, wife of Louis XL . . Lucy Willcox. 

III. Dance by Torchlight at Court of Burgundy 

La Duchesse ...... Alice Norcross. 

La Bon Due Philes Harriet A. Friday. 

Mademoiselle de Chemay . . . Lucy Willcox. 

At a meeting of the Art Society, Oct. 28, Miss Christine Brooks, '94, was re- 
ceived into the society. The subject of the meeting was French Art in the Seven- 
teenth Century, the Age of Louis XIV., and the following programme was 
presented : — 

Historical and Literary Aspects of the Period, including 

Fashions and Social Life Alma Hippen. 



Ruby Bridgman. 
Effie McMillan. 

Christine Brooks. 
21, the following pro- 

Art Organizations of the Period 

Chief Artists of the Period and their Work 

Tableaux : Illustration of Costumes of the Period 

Caroline King, Alice Wood. 
Mme. de Sevigny 

At the regular meeting of the Classical Society, Oct 
gramme was presented : — 

The Decoration of Attic Homes .... Miss Simmons. 

Painting as used in the Temples of Greece . . Miss Thayer. 

Polygnotus ........ Miss Perkins. 

The Romans as Borrowers in Painting . . . Miss Leonard. 

The Music of their Religious Rites .... Miss Kahn. 

The Music of the Drama ...... Miss Kneen. 

The subject to be studied by the Phi Sigma Fraternity during the present se- 
mester is, The Russian Novelists. The first programme meeting of the year was 
held on Oct. 18. The following programme was presented: — 


Russian National Hymn .... 
Slavic Characteristics ..... 
Sketch of the Development of Russian Literature, Emily Shultz 

Mary W. Miller. 
Ethel Stanwood. 

Russian Folk Songs 

Gogol: the Man and the Author . . . . 

Gogol's Place in the Development of a Russian 

National Literature ..... 

Helen Foss. 
Elizabeth Stark. 

Edith Judson. 


The second meeting of the Alpha Chapter, Nov. 4, was on Turgenef. 
following programme was presented : — 
1. Sketch of the Life of Turgenef 

Turgenef as a Realist 

Music ........ 

The Political Import of the Works of Turgenef 

Selections from " Poems in Prose " 

Music ........ 

At the regular meeting of the Agora held Oct. 2S, Misses Annie E. Cobb, '96, 
Clara Benson, '95, Sarah Hadley, '96, Edith Rhodes, '96, and Helena DeCou, 
'96, were initiated. 

Mabel Davison. 
May Pitkin. 
Helen James. 
Marion Mitchell. 
Alice Schouler. 
Mary W. Miller. 


History of Silver Legislation up to July, 1890 . Miss Eleanor Kellogg. 

The Sherman Bill Miss Arline Smith. 

Free Coinage and Other Propositions of the Silver 

Men Miss Ora Slater. 

The programme was followed by an informal discussion of the Silver Question. 

(ftfumnae (ttofes. 

A meeting of the Wellesley Club of New York was held Saturday, Oct 28, at 
the home of Miss Louise Brown, 1 West 81st street, New York. The president, 
Mrs. Herbert K. Twitchell, presided. After the transaction of the necessary busi- 
ness the club had the pleasure of listening to a piano solo by Miss McMai tin. 
Two letters were read from Wellesley — one from Miss Mary S. Case of the fac- 
ulty, and one from Miss Edith Jones of the class of '95. The members of the 
club were very much interested in hearing of the recent changes which have come 
to the college. The remainder of the afternoon was spent socially. 

Miss Malina A. Gilkey, '76-'78, is in the Mercantile Library, St. Louis, Mo. 

Mrs. Mary H. Putnam Hart, ^S-'Si, is spending a year abroad. 

Miss Marian Marsh, 'So, formerly instructor in the chemistry department, has 
returned to her work at the Woman's Medical College in New York. 

Miss Laura Jones, '82, is studying at Chicago University. 

Mrs. Daniel Jones, mother of Alice Jones, '83, died in Stoneham, Oct. 20, 1893. 

Miss Louise H. R. Grieve, Sp. '83-'84, received the degree of M. D. last June 
from the Women's Medical College of the New York Infirmary. She will con- 
tinue her studies this winter at the Post-Graduate Hospital of New York. 

Miss Lucia G. Grieve, '83, is taking a post-graduate course in Greek and Ori- 
ental languages at Columbia College, New York. 

Miss Ellen A. Vinton, '84, has returned to her position as teacher of English 
literature in Norfolk College, Norfolk, Va. 

Mrs. Hayward, formerly Miss Clara Ames, '84, is at home in Rochester, 
N. Y. 

Miss Annie Manning, '86, received the degree of M. D. last June from the 
Women's Medical College of the New York Infirmary. During the summer she 
has been Dr. Victor's substitute in the surgical clinic of the New York Infirmary. 


Miss Martha Moorhead, Sp. '86-'88, is a practising physician at 46 St. John 
street, Jamaica Plain, Mass. 

Miss Augusta Johnson, 'S6-'88, has been enjoying an extended trip in the West, 
visiting Mrs. Charlotte Allen Farnsworth in Boulder, Col., and Miss Jane Free- 
man in Montana ; also Yellowstone Park with Miss Groff. 

Miss Elizabeth Wallace, '86, has been in the Massachusetts State Building at the 
Columbian Exposition during the summer. Miss Wallace holds a fellowship at 
Chicago University and has charge of one of the dormitories. 

Miss Florence M. Fisherdick, '89, is teaching in Meriden, Conn. 

Miss Katherine Horton, '89, has been in England with Miss Evelyn Barrows. 

Miss Ruth Abbott and Miss Caroline Drew, '89, are at the Curtis School for 
boys, Brookfield Centre, Conn. 

Miss Isabel Stone, '89, has had charge of the exhibit of the Daughters of the 
Revolution at the World's Fair. 

Miss Florence Wilkinson, '92, has been at Hull House, Chicago, during the 

Miss Abbe Carter Goodloe, '89, has lately had stories in " Short Stories" and 
a quartrain in " Music." Some verses of hers have also come out in " Vogue," 
and the " New England Magazine" published a sonnet in the spring. 

Miss Louisa B. Gerl, '89, is preceptress in Hancock Union School and Acad- 
emy, Hancock, N. Y. 

The address of Mrs. Herbert Kenaston Twitchell, formerly Miss Mary A. Ed- 
wards, '89, is 214 Sixth Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y. 

Miss Sarah Groff, '89, has not been abroad, as was stated in the October Mag- 
azine. She spent the summer in Montana with Miss Jane Freeman, '90. She 
included Yellowstone Park and the Fair in her trip. 

Miss Mary Fish, '90, is first assistant in Deering High School, Deering, Me. 

Miss Evangeline Hathaway, '90, retains her former position as principal of the 
High School, Somerset, Mass. 

The following members of '90 remain in the positions they held last year : Caro- 
line E.Noble at Hempstead, Long Island; Mary E. Woodin at Millington, 
N. J. ; Annie M. Linscott at Hyde Park, Mass. Alice M. Richardson, '90, is 
in the library at North field, Mass. 

Miss Helen McGregor Clarke, '90, is teaching in the Connecticut Literary 
Institution, Suffield, Conn. 


Miss Jane Freeman, '90, is making her home with her brothers on a cattle ranch 
in Montana. Her address is Castle, Meagher Co., Montana. 

Miss Anne L. Bosworth, '90, is at the Rhode Island College of Agricultural 
and Mechanic Arts, Kingston, R. I. 

Miss Mary V. Fitch, '90, is teaching in Scranton, Pa. 

Miss Alice C. Baldwin, '90, is teaching in Philadelphia. 

The engagement of Miss Mary Fitch, '90, to Mr. Warren E. Fuller of New 
York is announced. 

Miss Esther Bailey, '91, is teaching in the High School at Arlington, Mass. 

Miss Grace Eastman and Miss Myrtie Avery, both of '91, are in the Regent's 
office, Albany, N. Y. 

Miss Josephine Redfield, '91, is teaching in the Steran School, 4106 Drexel 
Boulevard, Chicago, 111. 

Miss Mary Elizabeth Lewis, '91, is head of the English department at Coates 
College, Terre Haute, Ind. 

Miss Elizabeth Stewart, '91, is teaching at her home, Gloversville, N. Y. 

Miss Louise Danielson, '91, is teaching at Southington, Conn. 

Miss Grace Jackson, 91, is doing graduate work in Latin and Greek at Chi- 
cago University. 

Miss Jane K. Weatherlow, '91, is pursuing graduate work in English at Chi- 
cago University. 

Miss Clara Buck, '92, and Miss Edith Thomson, '92, are at home for the 

Miss Alice Newman, '92, is studying in the Library School, Albany, N. Y. 

Miss Dora Bay Emerson is studying quantitative analysis in Chicago Univer- 

Miss Florence Wilkinson, 92, is taking courses in poetics and social science in 
the Chicago University. 

Miss Therese Stanton, '92, is teaching in Miss Williams' school, 4 Linden 
street, Worcester, Mass. 

Miss Frances Lance, '92, who is teaching in the Marblehead High School, is 
studying Anglo-Saxon under the direction of Miss Weaver, at the college. 

Miss Sara Williams, '92, is teaching in Warren, Ohio. Her address is 81 2 St. 
Paul's street. 


Miss Mary Reed Eastman, '92, is at the Normal School, Albany, N. Y. 

Miss Mabel Glover, '92, is studying medicine at Johns Hopkins, Baltimore. 

Miss Myra Jacobus, formerly of '92, is at home in East Los A.igelos, engaged 
in teaching private pupils. 

Miss Frances C. Lance, '92, is again teaching in Marlborough, Mass., this 

Miss Gertrude Cushing, '92, has returned to Wellesley to take her second de- 
gree in literature. 

Miss Blanche A. Clay, '92, is at her home in Boston. 

Miss Florence A. Wing, '92, will spend the winter iu Chicago, where she is 
studying violin with Max Bendix. Her address is 39S5 Drexel Boulevard. 

Miss Gertrude L. Woodin, '92, is assistant in the High School at Westfield, 

Miss Marion Weston Cottle, Sp. '92-'93, is with Mrs. Sherman-Raymond at 
the Hoffman House, Boston, where she is studying violin with Mrs. Raymond 
and Prof. C. N. Allen. 

Miss Lila Tayler, '93, is teaching mathematics in a college preparatory school 
at Pittsburg, Pa. 

Miss Mary Brigham Hill, '93, is studying literature at Harvard. 

Miss Eleanor Schleicher, '93, is teaching at Eagle Pass, Texas. 

Miss Bertha Anderson, '93, is in the Misses Anable's school, New Brunswick, 

Miss Grace G. Rickey, '93, is teaching in the High School, Woodstock, Vt. 

Miss Ida E. Woods, '93, is at the Harvard Observatory, Cambridge, Mass. 

The engagement of Miss Mabel Scandlin, '93, is announced. 

Miss Annie B. Tomlinson, '93, is studying economics at Yale. 

Miss Josephine Simrall, '93, is at home in Covington, Ky. 

Miss Harriet Chapman, '93, is studying medicine in Cleveland, Ohio. 

Miss Sarah H. Hickenlooper, formerly of '94, is studying at the Art Institute 
in Cincinnati, Ohio. 

Miss Maud Thompson, '94, will spend the winter in Redlands and Santa Anna, 


Coffege Qguffefm. 

President Shafer will be at home to students and other friends at Norumbega 
on Wednesday and Saturday evenings. 
Thursday, Nov. 16. Dr. McKenzie. 
Sunday, Nov. 19. Dr. Walcott Calkins. 
Monday, Nov. 20. Concert. 
Sunday, Nov. 26. Rev. S. A. Fuller. 
Monday, Nov. 27. Professor Goodale. 
Thursday, Nov. 30. Thanksgiving Day. 
Sunday, Dec. 3. Dr. D. Merriman. 
Monday, Dec. 4. Concert. 
Sunday, Dec. 10. Dr. J. L. Hurlburt. 
Wednesday, Dec. 13, 5 p. m. College closes for Christmas vacation. 



Hitchcock — Hill. At Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, Nov. 1, 1893, Helen Hill, '76-'78, and 
Rev. Charles Edward Hitchcock. 

Kessler — Dunbar. At St. Joseph, Mo., Sept. 26th, 1893, Anna Dunhar, '87-'87, and 
Richard Holmes Kessler. 

Fulton — Tinker. At Bristol, Conn., Sept. 13, 1893, Gertrude Lynn Tinker, '88, and 
J. Gault Fulton. At home in Anchorage, Jefferson Co., Kentucky. 

Tibbets — Cilley. Sept. 13, 1893, Grace Cilley, once of the class of '90, and Captain 

Jones — Tyler. At Tylerville, Conn., June 22, 1893, Mary Noyes Tyler, '90, and 
Frederick Hall Jones. 

Preston — Brown. At Woburn, Mass., Sept. 27, 1893, Lena Brown and Elwyn Greeley 
Preston. Address, 33 Jason St., Arlington, Mass. 

Valentine — Porter. At Bridgeport, Conn., Nov. 1, 1893, Mabel Anna Porter, '91, 
and I. Forest Valentine. 

Dillingham — Frear. At Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands, Aug. 1, 1893, Mary Emma 
Dillingham, '93, and Walter Francis Frear. 


In Phoenix, Arizona, Oct. 18, '93, Mabelle Little, '94. 

Whereas — It has pleased our Heavenly Father, in His Providence, to take to Himself 
our classmate and friend, Mabelle Little, be it 

Resolved — That we, the Class of Ninety-four of Wellesley College, extend to her 
family, in their sorrow, our most heartfelt sympathy, finding comfort for them and for 
ourselves, in her beautiful life and character, and 

Resolved — That a copy of these resolutions be sent to her family and be published 
in the Wellesley Magazine. 

( Fannie Bradley Greene. 
For the class < Mary Louise Wetherbee. 
( Artemisia Stone. 

ameson fy T\nowles Oompany, 

Importers and Retailers of 


15 Winter Street, 


Special attention given to young people's Fancy 
Dress Shoes. 

The only house that presents illustrated Cata- 
logue. Send for one. 

The Best College Discounts given. 

H. H. Carter & Co., 

Stationers and Engravers, 


20 per eent. Diseoant 

on purchases made by 

Students from Wellesley College. 

3 Beacon Street, 

Your attention io called to our stock of 


Toilet and Desk Funishings in Sterling and Plated Silver. 


Marble and Iron Clocks, $6.00 to $20.00. 

Stock in all departments always complete. 

A, Stowell & Co,, 

24 Winter Street, ------ BOSTON. 

.Yew Pictures. 

Etchings, Engravings, Photographs, just 
received from the best American, English, French, 
and German publishers. 

The largest and finest stock to select from in 
New England, — and prices satisfactory. 

Special attention to Artistic Framing. 


190 Boylston Street, - - Boston. 

Artists' Materials. 


Art Studies and Books. 

Oil and Water Colors; Crayons; Materials 
for Tapestry, Painting, etc. 

WadsmoFth, Jtomland & Co., 

82 & 84 Washington St., Boston. 
Principal Factories i M * L gKis*«iuii«. 

5Jilfcl/E, <?WP 9 COU/ QO., 

147 Tremont Street, Corner of West, 

Jewellers and Silversmiths. 


PROGRAMS and INVITATIONS, both printed and engraved. Class Day programs a specialty. 

CLASS PINS designed and manufactured to order. 

PARASOLS and UMBRELLAS made to order, re-covered and repaired. 

Gloves and Veiling. 

Miss M. F. Fisk, 


Calls the attention of the Young Ladies' to her stock of Kid, Undressed Kid, and Dog Skin Gloves 

that are suitable for all occasions. Also her very becoming stock of Veilings, and solicits 

their patronage, and will g've to any of the students 6 per cent, discount. 



17 Beacon St., Boston. 

This Hotel is centrally located near business 
part of the city and combines the conveniences of 
a first-class hotel with the comforts of home. 


Two fiirst-class Cafes in Hotel. 



J. W. SMITH & CO., 


Wellesley Pharmacy, 

<^/*5. U/. PSJ^Y; proprietor. 


Physicians' Prescriptions a Specialty. 

in all Departments l 
of Literature . . 

can be found at our store. The largest 
assortment in Boston of the popular and 
standard authors. Also a large variety at 
special reductions. Large variety of Bibles, 
Prayer Books, Booklets, etc. 


De Wolfe, piske & Co., 

The Archway Bookstore, 

Finest Roadbed on the Continent. 

361 & 365 Washington Street, 


For Fine Millinery 





Southern Educational 

H. N. ROBERTSON, A.M., Manager, 

Memphis, Tenn. 

Supplies teachers with positions. Supplies, without charge 
schools and colleges with thoroughly competent instructors 
n the various departments of learning. Operates in all the 
Southern and Southwestern States. Write for terms. 


First Glass Throagh Car Hoate 

To tli© West. 

Through Trains Leave Boston as Follows: 

8.30 a. m. (ex. Sunday) flay Express. 
10.30 a. in. (daily) Chicago Special. 
2.00 p. m. (daily) North Shore Limited. 
3.00 p. in. (daily) St. Louis and Chicago Express. 
7.15 p. m. (daily) Pacific Express. 

Springfield Line 

Hartford, New Haven and New York. 



9.00 a. m. 

(ex. Sunday) 

3.30 p. m. 

11.00 a. m. 

(ex. Sunday) 

5.30 p. m. 

*12.00 Noon 

(ex. Sunday) 

5.10 p. in. 

4.00 p. m. 


10.00 p. m. 

11.00 p. m. 


7.41 a. m. 

*This train is composed entirely of drawing-room 
cars, and special ticket which entitles holder to seat in 
drawing-room car required; tickets will not be sold 
beyond seating capacity of train. 

For tickets, information, time-tables, etc., 
apply to nearest ticket agent. 
A. S. HANSON, Cen'l Passenger Agent. 

Fine Carpets. 

The finest line of specialties In 

Axminsters, Wiltons, and 
Brussels Carpets 

ever offered by us. 
These are all our patterns, with a full line of the 



arpets .'. and.'. Ma 




Joel Goldthiaait & Go., 

163 to 169 WASHINGTON ST., 





walnut hill 
Wellesley # Preparatory, 




Thorough preparation for Wellesley and other colleges- 
for women. 

References:— Pres. Shafer, Wellesley College, 

the Misses Eastman, Dana Hall, and others. 

Circulars on application. 

Miss Charlotte H. Conant, B.A., ) p rinrim1 . 
Miss Florence Bigelow, M.A., j r rmci P aK >- 

Discount to Wellesley Students 

Cotrell & Leonard 





Illustrated Catalogue and particulars 
on application. 


ii John Street, New York. 

t ©estgncr anfc (Wtafter * 

Society Badges, 
Fraternity Pins, 
Rings, Emblem 
Jewels of every 

MFflAI 9 TROPHTES for Presentation, from 

Nl L.U nt-\3 original and artistic designs. 

IA/U CfJ you want anything in above line, will 
fwnun es teem it a favor to submit special designs, 
with estimates, or ansvv er enquiries by mail. 

We send design plates FREE upon request. 

Wellesley Pins can be obtained from Miss Florence 
Tobey, Business Manager of Magazine. 


©ana jfyaM ^c§oof, 

Wellesley, Mass. 

♦ ♦ ♦ + 

Pupils are prepared for regular or for special 
courses at Wellesley College. 

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ 

Price for Board and Tuition, $500 for the 
school year ; tuition for day pupils, 5125. 

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ 

For further information address the Principals : 

Julia A. Eastman 
Sarah P. Eastman 


Furniture Manufacturers 

and Upholsterers. 

Washington and Elm Streets, 

C?d»i»d Work a Speoialty. 

Factory at East Cambridge. 



All Kinds of Athletic Clothing. 

Ladies' Sweaters a Specialty, 
Golf and Tennis Supplies. 


Wright & Ditson, 

344Washingt on Street, near Milk, 




Opposite Railroad Station, Wellesley. 

Cut Flowers and Plants of the Choicest Varieties on 
hand. Floral designs for all occasions arranged at 
shortest notice. Orders by mail or otherwise promptly 
attended to. Flowers carefully packed and forwarded to 
all parts of the United States and Canada. 

Wight, Foster & Co, 




New England 

Bureau of Education, 

3 Somerset St. ("Room 5,), 
Boston, Mass. 

This Bureau is the oldest in New England, and has gained 
a national reputation. We receive calls for teachers of every 
grade and from every State and Territory and from abroad. 
During the administration of its present Manager, he has 
secured to its members, in salaries, an aggregate of more than 
$1,000,000, yet calls for teachers have never been 60 numerous 
as during the current year. 

Graduates from Wellesley College are in 
great demand and constantly sought by 
the numerous patrons of this Bureau. 
Many have found good positions through 
our agency, and all who registerare placed 
at the front. Register early for the autumn 
vacancies of 1894 95. 
Forms and Circulars sent free. Address 



Unconditional Guarantee accompanies each Rapid Writer Fountain Pen. 
Circulars free. FOUNTAIN PEN CO., Washington, D. C. 

Call on our representative for Wellesley College, Mary Ella Chapin. 

Only $3sNew York 

VIA FALL RIVER LINE for first class limited 
tickets. Fares reduced for all points beyond New 
York. Steamers Puritan and Pilgrim in com- 
mission. Pullman Vestibuled Express Trains 
composed of parlor and regular passenger cars, 
leave Park Square Station, Boston, week days at 
6.00 p. m., Sundays at 7.00 p. m., connecting with 
6teamer at Fall River in 80 minutes. A fine or- 
chestra on each steamer. Tickets, staterooms 
and berths secured at 3 Old State House, cor. 
Washington and State Sts., and at Park Square 

J. R. KENDRICK, Gen'l Mgr., Boston. 

GEO. L. CONNOR, Gen'l Pass'r Agt., Boston. 

L. H. PALMER, Agt., 3 Old State House, Boston. 

Wellesley Steam Laundry. 


We are prepared to do all kinds of Laundry 
Work in a first-class manner and at reasonable 
prices. Call on us and get our terms. Try us and 
we will guarantee you satisfaction. Goods called 
for and delivered at any place in the Village at the 
College Buildings. 

J. T. Melius, 


VA7 0rr)<ar)S lT/cd-iced vfWl©<2r<z, 


Session '93 -'94 opens October 1st, 1893- Three years Graded Course. Instruction by Lectures, Clinics, 
Recitations and practical work, under supervision in Laboratories and Dispensary of College, and in U. S. 
Infirmary. Clinics and operations in most of the City Hospitals and Dispensaries open to Women Students. 
For Catalogues, etc., address 


321 East l^th Street, New York. 

HE. They say that college 
girls don't keep up with the 

SHE. Oh but that isn't true . 
We know with all the rest of 
the world that the Columbia is 
the wheel to get for '93- 

HE. Yes, it takes the lead. 

Catalogues free. 

Would You Like a Better Wheel 

than the COLUMBIA ? 
It couldn't be had. 

For the Columbia is strong, 
light, swift and easy. 

Free instruction to purchasers. 
All orders promptly attended to. 

0. Daekett, Agt, 



THE ATTENTION of students is called to our unrivalled line of 



NIGHT LAMPS, and that latest and daintiest of Parisian devices, the PRINCESS LAMP. 



523=525 Washington Street. 

Opposite R. H. White & Co.'a. 

In every department of our store we allow Wellesley Pro- 
fessors and Students a discount, generally 

10 per cent. 

During the year you will notice many attractive goods which your friends at home would be 
glad to see. We shall be glad to send samples at your request. 

Dress Goods, Hosiery, Neckwear, Millinery, 
Underwear and Art Embroideries 

are perhaps some of the departments most interesting to students, but the discount applies to every 


Tremont Street and Temple Place - 



Boston and Brookline, Mass. 

Wellesley Branch, 
open every Monday and Tuesday. 

Duplicates of last year portraits and Tree -day 
groups can be had at the Wellesley Studio. 

o-!» at or sea // ,4 6 Tremont St. 

Bboadwiy. N. Y. I' BOSTON 

Pure, Fresh and 



A Choice Selection of Fancy Baskets, Boxes and 
Bonbonnieres constantly on hand at very reasonable 

Mail Orders given Prompt Attention.